


The Douchebag Dare

by Darkarashi



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And then it becomes a REAL relationship, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Femdom, I have No Excuse, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Pegging, Pregnancy Kink, Sexting, Tropes, gross disregard for the sanctity of one's work environment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:24:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 73,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3246170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkarashi/pseuds/Darkarashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started as a lost bet, and a dare - two people, quite unlike the other, forced into an uncomfortable meeting. There are talks of treason and trickery, then trickery made real. A relationship in name only, to irk those who forced them into the circumstance, given way to feelings that the other only hopes to be reciprocated, given over to a relationship in truth. Two people, quite unlike each other, in situations beyond what they expected. All because of a matched set of shirts and two asshole friends.</p><p>Because, seriously, that shirt is awful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by two things:  
> *Tickatocka from tumblr's “how about a “our asshole mutual friends set us up on a blind date and didn’t tell us it was a blind date, so instead of getting to know each other we spent the entire ‘date’ scheming against them and decided an awesome way to get back at them would be to pretend to date and then have a horrendous breakup but now that we’re two months into this charade we’re not sure what’s real and what’s fake anymore” AU idea, which I love.  
> *And the ‘douchebag t-shirts’ for Dragon Age Inquisition as drawn by moriesartworks on tumblr, which I ALSO love.  
> I have no shame.  
> Only thousands of words of fanfiction. For this, I am sorry.

* * *

“Dorian if you think I’m putting that shirt on I’m going to set you and _it_ on fire.”

“You lost the bet, and it’s a wonderful shirt, how dare you.”

Aurum crossed her arms, staring at her flatmate with her best disproving glare. Said flatmate was smirking from beneath his stupid curled moustache , already dressed for their evening event. “Event” was actually a bit generous of a descriptor, actually. It was “Douchebag Night” at Dorian’s favorite club, and due to some stupid bet she had made, assured she would win only to lose entirely, Aurum was going with him.

His tank top was a deep shade of crimson, perfectly accentuating the dusky shade of his skin. The fact that it proudly declared him “200% Hotter Than U” also fit him perfectly.

_“Asshole.”_

He threw the shirt he had picked for her to wear at her head, and then tossed the accessories he had picked out at her feet. Aurum growled under her breath, ripped the shirt away from her face, and bent to pick up all the junk off the floor, her pointed ears flaring out from her head.

“Don’t lose bets you aren’t ready to pay for, then.”

“I still think you cheated.”

Aurum held up her shirt for the night to the light and sighed when she realized she could see right through the fucking thing. The fact that it said “Eat Out More Often” with a rhinestone’d arrow pointing down at her crotch only made it worse. The accessories weren’t much better. They were tacky, to put it nicely. To put it accurately they were –

“The _worst_ pieces of jewelry I have ever seen. Where does this even go? You know I don’t have my ears pierced, you dick, and if you even think about opening your mouth to suggest ‘that’s not where they go’ I will pin you down while you sleep and shave one of your eyebrows and half of your moustache clean off.”

Dorian looked scandalized, reaching up to put a protective hand over his eyebrow and press a hand to his heart.

“You would not dare. What has my facial hair ever done to you?”

“Fucking _try me_ , Tevinter.”

Aurum chucked the most offensive accessories back at Dorian’s head. He dodged easily, chuckling at her vehemence, his fear for his poor eyebrow forgotten.

“Fine, fine, just the shirt. You don’t have to wear any of the other things,” he sighed, as if it was paining him to even allow her that much.

Aurum rolled her eyes and stormed back to her room to get dressed. If she had to wear this stupid fucking shirt, she would at least make sure the rest of her outfit was appropriately styled to her sensibilities. Dorian was a prat, but he was her best friend, regardless. If he wanted to embarrass her at a douchebag club for the evening, she could put up with it only because she was moderately certain that if she didn’t, he would pout for a week and be utterly impossible. He might also take it out on her elfroot pots on the porch again, and Aurum was about as protective of those plants as he was of his moustache.

She missed the sly grin on Dorian’s face, and the way he quickly whipped his phone out to fire off a quick text to someone.

* * *

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this. This shirt is…horrifying.”

“Ah, can it Cullen. Look at all the attention you’re getting!”

The club was loud, making conversation nearly impossible, but the corner they had situated themselves in was far enough away from the nearest speaker so that they could make an attempt at talking. The women surrounding him and the massive qunari did not need to speak to make their intentions known, however. They were flocking, licking lips and reaching with questioning hands first towards Cullen, then The Iron Bull, and then back to Cullen. No matter how many times Cullen tried to shoo them off, his stupid shirt had them rushing back just as fast. How Bull had managed to convince him to wear a shirt that said “Leg Rests” with arrows pointing to his shoulders, he couldn’t quite recall. But here he was. In a club. Wearing that _shirt_ , surrounded by a gaggle of girls, with nowhere near enough alcohol in his blood to make it worthwhile.

It could be worse. He could be wearing the shirt Bull had decided on (Maker preserve him, it said “Big Dick is Back In Town” and he could not be more mortified for the Qunari), but of the two, Cullen had chosen the lesser of two evils. That did not seem as if it was going to save him from the attention, regardless. How Bull managed to buy not one, but _two_ shirts that were too small for them both, Cullen did not know. The shirt clung to him nearly tight enough to outline every last one of his muscles in detail, and it was uncomfortable.

“I really would rather not-”

“Hah, look at that one’s shirt! She matches!”

Bull pointed at the entrance of the club where a distinctly put-off elvhen woman was striding in, flanked by a Tevene in a tank top. She drew the eyes of many, as most pure-blooded elvhen did, with her long tapered ears and slightly-over-large eyes, and drew all the more with her long red-blond undercut hair pulled up into a braided fauxhawk the tight-as-sin black leather pants and a shirt that proudly claimed –

Cullen felt his ears burn scarlet as Bull cuffed his shoulder and laughed. He dropped his eyes down to his drink, doing his best to not look at the woman. It was easy enough to ignore her for a while. The club was full of people, lights were flashing, music was playing and there was alcohol everywhere, but it seemed that his gaze was always drawn back to wherever that woman was. It did not help that the man with her was wearing a bright-bright- _bright_ red tank top that caught the light, and simultaneously, Cullen’s eye. Every time he thought he had managed to block her out, ignore her, ignore her _shirt_ , he would catch a hint of red, a flash of the color and he would blush just as red as the shirt of her companion again.

He picked at the hem of the shirt he did not want to wear any longer, trying to not draw attention to himself. He didn’t want her to see the shirt. He didn’t even _know_ her and he was already embarrassed to explain why the fuck he was wearing this stupid shirt. It did not matter that everyone in the club was wearing some sort of silly shirt or another, the fact that he was wearing _this_ and she was wearing _that_ made it so much worse.

“Go buy her a drink,” Bull urged for the umpteenth time as Cullen finished his beer.

“That is not a good idea.”

“You keep staring at her like you want to fulfill both your shirt’s orders. I don’t think you’ve stopped stealing looks at that ass of hers, either. Go buy her a drink.”

Bull pushed Cullen towards the bar, ignoring Cullen’s spluttered denial. Cullen dug his heels in, resisting the forced movement enough for Bull to stop pushing for a moment. _She_ had taken up a position at the very end of the bar, half-hidden in the darkness, glowering at anyone who came near her. Her elvhen eyes nearly glowed in dim lighting, and her blue eyes reflected the flashing lights in the most enchanting way – so did the rhinestones on her shirt, drawing a glittering line down to…to…he shook his head. He shouldn’t think about that. Her partner in the red tank was nowhere to be seen, and Cullen had no idea how he managed to keep _seeing_ her. It was unnerving, really, his ability to look up and find her in this crowded club without even trying.

“You want another drink?”

“ _Maker_ yes.”

“Bar’s that way, then, innit?”

Cullen sighed, shook his head and walked to the bartender. He had to cross the morass that was the dance floor to get there, and the _touching_ was enough to make him seriously reconsider walking back across the dance floor to get back to Bull. Then again, if he wasn’t near Bull, he would be at the mercy of the ones who insisted on _touching._ He was not entirely sure which was worse.

He rubbed his brow and sidled up to the bar (in the middle of it, nowhere near the end where _she_ had been), waiting his turn as was polite. The bartender was swamped, and it was likely he would be waiting a good long while before he got any alcohol. At least with his body facing the bar no one could see what was on his shirt and maybe he could have some time alone.

“You’re never going to get his attention. Either flash some cash or some tit. He doesn’t do shit otherwise. You want, what? A beer?”

“Uh? Yeah.”

“You want something bitter or light? Their selection here is a bit shit, but -”

“Whatever has the most alcohol in it, but I-I don’t care.”

 _She_ was standing next to him, leaning up against the bar, her shirt catching the light and drawing his attention down, reminding him of the fact that she was wearing _that_ shirt. She rolled her eyes, looked over his shoulder and sneered. Cullen dully noticed that her teeth were too-sharp. Wolfish. His words failed him.

“You come here with Bull, then? Hey – **_hey_** , hey asshole! Two beers for me and this douchebag here.”

She reached a hand out, waving the bartender over and making their order quickly, too quickly for Cullen to even catch the name of what she was ordering for them both. Before he could object, she had paid for both drinks, and nudged the second beer towards him. She was careful to keep her body turned towards the bar, but she did orient herself rather close to his side. It made it much easier to talk.

“Yeah, I did – you know Bull?”

“He’s fucking my flatmate currently. Dorian gets a bit prickly if I suggest that they’re ‘boyfriends’, but that’s what they are. Bull pick that shirt for you?”

“I had a choice between the one he chose to wear and this one.”

She _laughed_ , her lips spreading into a broad smile. He found himself smiling along with her.

“So not really a choice. I saw the shirt Bull was wearing. You made a better decision. I lost a bet, and I’m willing to bet, regardless, that the two of them are canoodling in some corner, pleased as punch that we’re talking and that I’ve not actually punched you in the mouth yet.”

He blinked and looked at her, reaching absently for his beer. It would be rude not to drink it, now that she had bought it. She drank as well, taking a long pull, and pulling a face as she swallowed. Cullen did not know what to say to her, and so he remained quiet at her side, trying to think about what he could possibly do to assure her that he really did not need to be punched. He knew enough about elves to know that even though they looked waifish by comparison to humans, they could through a mean punch if they wanted to.

“Dorian’s got it in his head that he can’t really be in a relationship until his housemate is in one as well, and he’s been doing everything to try and get me into someone’s – _anyone’s_ bed. This is the worst attempt so far, and I’m pretty insulted that it nearly worked. Nice shirt, by the way.”

Cullen blushed scarlet and took a drink. If he was going to put up with this, he was going to do it drunk.

“Bull cajoled me into coming. I don’t usually – I don’t, I mean, it’s not that I – _Maker’s breath_ ,” he growled and finished his drink. He gestured to the now very attentive bartender for a second one, and she again beat him to payment, tossing the appropriate coinage to the bartender.

He still reached for his wallet, intending to pay her back.

“Oh don’t do that,” she sighed, bumping her shoulder into his with just enough force to knock him off-balance. “Look, I’m willing to bet neither of us actually wants to be here right now. If we start a bit of a scene, we can both leave, go back to your place or out to get dinner or something, and neither of us will have to deal with our traitorous friends. I’ll even let you pay for dinner, how about that?”

Cullen swallowed down his too-fast-coming agreement to the plan. He did not want to be here any longer than he had. The music was loud and starting to give him a headache, and all the alcohol was certainly not helping.

“I don’t usually take women out on dates without knowing their names first.”

She turned to him, surprise lifting her brows high on her head. He was struck by how _blue_ her eyes were. Near the pupil, they were a deep shade of violet, but on the outermost edge of her iris, they were bright, electrifying _blue_.

“Quite right. I’m Aurum of Clan Lavellan. A pleasure to meet you, serah.”

“Cullen. Cullen Rutherford. The pleasure is mine, Aurum.”

In the flashing lights of the club, he couldn’t be certain, but he swore he saw the briefest blush cross her face. It was gone quickly though, and she was looking up at him with a grin on her face.

“Now that we have that out of the way, shall we?”

Aurum moved to leave the bar, but Cullen reached out to put a hand on her arm, arresting her movement with the soft gesture.

“I don’t know if Bull would be convinced that we’re actually going to do anything unless he sees something here. I mean-” he caught on to the implications of what he was saying almost immediately after the words came out of his mouth. “I meant that, if we don’t at least give them something to see, they’ll never believe that we are doing anything than running away.”

It was his turn to blush, again. Aurum turned back towards him, stepping close to him, invading his personal space the same way all the other women had done in the hours before this moment. But it was different now.

“How far do you want this charade to go, Cullen? I don’t like being strongarmed into half-assed matchmaking attempts courtesy of shitty shirts, and Dorian’s ideas are certainly only going to get more frantic the closer to the Winter’s Ball we draw. He wants to go, but he has it in his head that I would be unhappy to be brought along without an escort to dance with. If you feel up to it, we could…”

Cullen smiled broadly at her, resting a hand on her waist after checking to find where Bull was in relation to the two of them, ensuring that the Qunari could see the movement. Aurum rolled her eyes, and reached her hand back to his and pointedly pushed his hand lower, until it was firmly on her ass. In any other circumstance, he would be flustered and blushing, but this was just a game, not anything more than that. He could play a game.

“You just want to use me for my _body_ , is that it?” he grumbled playfully, squeezing the hand on her ass just the slightest bit.

“I did buy you two drinks, you know. You owe me. Shall we dance?”

Her reply was light, airy, but the way she squared her shoulders to his and arched her back into him was decidedly less of both of those. His eyes dropped down, and he tightened his grip on her hips for just a moment. Aurum smiled at him again, pressing herself close. She ran her hands down his arms, squeezing his muscles and giving an appreciative little “Mmnf” under her breath.

“Dance? I’m not very good at dancing,” Cullen offered lamely, flexing his arms only just a little bit under her hands.

“Well, it’s a good thing that dancing here really only involves grinding my ass against your dick, isn’t it? If you want to sell it, we need to _sell it_ , don’t we?”

Cullen smirked, and Aurum’s eyes dipped down to the scar on his upper lip. The way it moved when he quirked his lips drew her attention and held it. She reached up to slide her thumb along his lip, an intimate gesture that Cullen tracked, turning his head so he could flick his tongue against the pad of her thumb. Aurum smiled at him.

“To work?” he asked, holding her hand to his face just long enough for him to flick another glance to where Bull was sitting before dipping his head to press a chaste kiss to her wrist.

She took his hand in hers, lacing her fingers with his and gently tugged him towards the dance floor, walking backwards and pulling him along with her. Out of the very corner of her eye, she caught the flash of red from Dorian’s tank top. She felt his gaze on her body, and how he looked from her to Cullen. The Tevinter was smart. He was clever and observant and if she did not play this right, he would figure out what they were doing – or his boyfriend would. Then there would be hell to pay.

The dance floor was a crush of people. She kept her hand on Cullen’s, pulling him close to her. He hesitated, and Aurum stepped in towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and molding her body against his. The music was loud, impossibly so, loud enough to drown out most all hope of communication. Still, she leaned up into him, pressing her mouth to his ear so she was certain he could hear her.

“You can tell me if you’re uncomfortable, alright? This is just a game to annoy my friend, you can tell me if you’re not okay with what I’m doing.”

Cullen laughed, the sound lost, but the vibration through his chest rumbled against hers. He tightened his grip on her, pulling her tight to him. His steps were awkward and came dangerously close to falling on her toes, but he danced well enough. Aurum was careful to keep her feet out of his path, stepping and swaying with him.

“You forget that they involved me in this too. I want to get back at Bull just as much as you want to get back at Dorian. I had to wear this stupid shirt in public and I’d rather them both feel dumb by the end of it. I just don’t know how to…do this.”

Aurum smiled and brushed a curl of hair off his brow. She leaned in to him, her mouth pressed to the shell of his ear, her hips still swaying from side to side. Carefully, she guided his hands down her back until they were at appropriately raunchy points down her ass.

“It’s easy. Feel the beat, sway your hips, hold me close. If you’re feeling dirty, you can wait until I turn around and grind up against me. You don’t need finesse, you don’t need to impress anyone. It’s supposed to be filthy, so _be_ filthy.”

She felt Cullen’s hands tighten briefly on her hip and ass, and then he was spinning her around, holding her flush to him with his hands on her hips. Aurum leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder and relaxing into the beat. She tilted her head away from his when he dropped his chin down to her shoulder, letting the movement appear more intimate than it was in truth. The smile that played across her face was purely for her own sake.

* * *

“They seem to be getting along swimmingly,” Dorian commented, looking over the rim of his martini to the dance floor where Aurum and Cullen were grinding to the heavy beat of the music.

He could see Cullen’s mouth moving around words, but with alcohol swimming in his blood, he couldn’t summon the ability to read what was passing between the two of them. Involving Bull had been a bit of a cheap shot, almost as much as fixing the bet so that Aurum would lose, but it was worth it, if only to get Aurum out of their flat for a night or two a week. Bull’s place was nice and all, but Dorian had spent a lot of money on those sheets on his and he maybe wanted to enjoy them after sex sometimes.

“Mmm, you know she’s going to ruin you when she figures it out.”

Bull had an arm draped around Dorian’s waist, but he was large enough for that to not necessarily imply a physical closeness to the Tevinter. He looked to Aurum and Cullen on the dancefloor.

“Yeah, but if this sticks, we can at least get to the Winter Ball without her getting all morose and weepy again.”

“If you say so,” Bull grumbled. “This might just be a one-night stand fling for her. There’s no actual guarantee she’s going to want Cullen’s crotch goblins crawling out of her.”

Dorian spat out the last mouthful of his drink, sitting up out of the comfortable crook of Bull’s arm and wiping overly-expensive alcohol out of his moustache. Bull chuckled and pulled Dorian back towards him, pressing an apologetic kiss to Dorian’s cheek. Dorian spluttered regardless, looking at Bull with an accusation in his eyes.

“I-I just…I can’t believe you _said_ that, first, and second – I just need a proof of concept. I have a whole list I can go through if I need to.”

“Proof of concept?”

“Yes. I have to see if I can use these sorts of tricks on her. If she can stomach Cullen, who – let us admit it – is not at all the sort of man who suits her in the slightest, then perhaps I can present a few better candidates to her later on, and you and I can get a few nights in my place.”

“Dorian, I think if you just _asked_ , she’d let us have the night to ourselves.”

The smaller man sighed, throwing his hand in the air.

“That isn’t the point!”

Bull huffed a laugh.

“Of _course_ not. Don’t you think- _oh_!”

Dorian looked first to Bull, then back to Aurum and Cullen out on the floor. The two were not where they had been mere moments before, oh no. No, Cullen had Aurum backed up against one of the pillars of the club, his hands tangled in her hair, his mouth slanted across hers. She was pulling him close, her fingers in the beltloops of his pants, her body rolling as best it could against him. He watched, his mouth hanging open as Cullen pulled one of her legs up and pushed his thigh into the space now provided.

They broke apart from their kiss when Cullen’s fingers reached up to pull on the long lobe of Aurum’s ear. Dorian flinched preemptively, awaiting the headbutt and eventual explanations to the bouncer about why Aurum should not have the cops called on her – but no. He watched his friend’s mouth drop open and her eyes roll, her head dropping to the side to better offer her ear up to Cullen’s ministrations, and knew it was probably better if he looked away because _that_ was getting uncomfortably intimate. His gaze remained where it was, however.

Cullen dropped his head to her neck and left messy open-mouthed kisses all over the offered flesh, moving slowly up towards her ear, kissing and licking and Dorian _really needed_ to look away because it was seriously messing with him to see the usually discrete Aurum arch and writhe beneath someone she had known for a matter of minutes. Granted, this was what he wanted. It was what he had planned for, and what he had wanted for a long time, ever since he had started this…thing with Bull. He wanted her to have the same thing he did so that he could rest easier in his own relationship.

Any pride he had felt in this trick vanished, to be replaced with a sharp burning poker of protectiveness in his chest. Aurum did not do those sorts of things when she was sober. Even if she did, it was _Aurum_ and _Cullen_ , and he had his hands balled into fists at the thought.

“Hey now, Sparkler. Calm down. She’s fine.”

Dorian whipped his head around to glare at Bull.

“How is she fine? That oaf has his meaty paws all over her! He could be hurting her, or-”

“Doesn’t really seem like she’s in any sort of pain, really.”

He looked back to his friend, who was sliding down the pillar, supported only by Cullen’s arm around her waist, her leg hooked over his hip, and the little bit of her shoulders that were still pressed up against it. Cullen was rocking his hips against hers, and as Dorian watched, the blond picked Aurum up as if she weighed less than nothing, letting her settle her other leg up on his hip as well before pinning her to the pillar and pressing in close again.

Cullen kissed Aurum desperately, cradling her face in one of his palms, the other still firmly grasping her ass to help keep her up against the pillar. She returned the affection with all the passion she possessed, reaching up to him, pulling him close by the collar of his shirt, slanting her mouth across his, undulating herself against him without a care for how crass and open it may be. Dorian blinked and turned his head away again. He could not stomach seeing her like that. He reached for his drink blindly, and when he found it empty, he took Bull’s instead.

“Aaaw, the fun police got ‘em,” Bull drawled, sinking back into the space next to Dorian, plucking his drink out of the Tevinter’s hand and downing it.

Dorian looked up. Yep. Cullen and Aurum were gone. Nowhere to be seen. He stood up, intent upon finding his friend and that asshole she was with, but Bull reached for him instead, pulling him down onto his too-large lap, wrapping him in an embrace that was impossible to leave. Any objections Dorian mustered, Bull soothed with kisses until Dorian completely forgot why or where he wanted to go.

* * *

They were still laughing when they finally tumbled into the taxicab. Aurum was naturally more nimble, and managed to find her spot quickly, with a minimal amount of fumbling. Cullen was slightly less adept at managing the confines of the cab and whanged his head on the overhanging lip for the back-seat lighting.

“I’ve never been kicked out of a club before!” Aurum chirruped happily, as Cullen rubbed his head.

“First time for everything, I guess,” Cullen replied, still fussing at the quickly-forming knot on his head.

“Here, give the guy your address, I’ll handle that.”

Cullen leaned forward to better talk with the driver, and he was just about to lean back when he felt a cool rush flash across his head. He looked at Aurum, who was pulling her hand back from him, pale light still dancing from her fingers. She settled back in her seat, smiling to herself.

“You-you’re a mage?” he stammered, reaching up to where the bruise had been.

“Did…you not know? I’m in line to lead my Clan, that would make me a mage, and a pretty powerful one, if I do say so myself.”

“I – I didn’t think that you would…do you know who I am?”

Aurum blinked.

“You said your name was Cullen Rutherford. Other than that, no. You’re just some dude in a douchey shirt I got kicked out of a club with.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck nervously, not looking directly at her. The cab started moving, the driver summarily ignoring them as all good taxi drivers would do.

“I _was_ a Templar. Once. Not anymore, but…I was.”

“Huh. Dorian must have bet someone that I’d punch you then. There’s no other reason I could think that he’d throw an ex-Templar at me like he threw you.”

Aurum crossed her arms and stared straight forward. The muscles in her face were tight with thought, and she did not say anything else. In fact, she held almost unnervingly still, even as the taxi hit a pothole and jumped hard to the left. Cullen did his best not to stare at her, but her silence weighed heavily on him.

“I – I’m sorry, Aurum.”

She blinked, her ears twitching. Still, she did not turn her head to look at him.

“For what? I am by no means a fan of Templars, and they were not much pleased with how I practiced my apostasy, true, but there was little either side could do. I had a religious exemption to being forced into the Circle, and the ability to fight off any Templars who got it into their head to try and strongarm me or my grandmother into one. I’m glad the Circles were dissolved. I’m glad the Templar order was fractured. Those two systems did more harm than good.”

Cullen swallowed his disagreement, tempering it with the knowledge of his past, knowing that mages certainly had a claim to dislike the Circle and Templars as a whole.

“I understand your-”

“Come on, Cullen. We’re not in a real relationship, so maybe this sort of thing can be ignored? I really don’t like talking about Templars or the system that enabled them to exist with literal legal impunity. Reminds me of too much. We can just gloss over it if we’re asked with stupid lovey-dovey bullshit about how our pasts don’t matter, or feign ignorance. Why don’t we just feign ignorance. You ignore I’m a mage, I’ll ignore you were a Templar. Wonderful, let’s just do that.”

Aurum’s voice turned strained halfway through her diatribe, and she turned her head to stare out the window, not wanting Cullen to see the beginnings of tears in the corners of her eyes. Some things were still too painful to talk about, even after all this time. The rest of the ride was spent in uncomfortable silence. She let him pay for the taxi when they arrived at Cullen’s apartment complex, and slid out before Cullen could say anything.

The nighttime air was brisk, and her shirt offered little, if any protection from the cold. She was shivering by the time Cullen joined her on the sidewalk.

“Oh, you’re cold! This way, come on. It’s not far from here.”

Aurum sighed and allowed him to lead her through the apartment complex, up stairs and down hallways.

“Bull know where you live?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Excellent. They’ll be by in the morning then. After Bull finishes with Dorian, Dorian will remember that I’m not there and figure out how to get here. It’ll be a great shock for him. That sound okay with you?”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck again, stammering over words he couldn’t quite get out. Aurum rolled her eyes and gestured to the still-closed door in front of them. He grinned lopsidedly at her, the scar across his lip pulling taut, and opened the door for her.

Surprisingly enough, his apartment, though a touch small and sparsely furnished, was well-kept and organized. It was clean, or as clean as any living space that was actually being lived in could be, and what decorations that were present were all in warm, pleasing shades of gold and red.

“Your place is very nice, Cullen,” Aurum said appreciatively, following behind Cullen as he went about turning on lights and making small adjustments to out-of-place items.

“Thank you. Do you want me to order some pizza or something?”

“You know a place that delivers this late?”

“Uh, good point. Let me see what I have in the fridge.”

Aurum chuckled, and sat on the couch.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not that hungry. I’ll count breakfast as payment enough. I like-” Aurum stopped herself in the middle of her sentence, considered her next words, and then burst out in uproarious laughter, doubling over and collapsing to the side, helplessly giggling at something she couldn’t get out.

Cullen took a long moment to stare at her, as she laughed at some joke she was not sharing with him. Her shirt rode up when she kicked her legs up over the top of his couch, and Aurum settled like that, her feet over the back of the couch, and her head hanging off the edge of the seat. She was still laughing, covering her face with both hands.

“What is that all about?” Cullen asked when it finally seemed as if she was calmed down the slightest bit.

“It’s…an old, stupid joke with some of my friends. We used to go to clubs and hear all sorts of shitty pickup lines – mind you, nothing as bad as a shirt that says “Leg Rests” on it – and one time, a guy walked up to my friend Josephine and asked her how she liked her eggs in the morning. We’d all been drinking, but Josephine is a diplomat for a reason. She turned to this asshole, looked him straight in the eye, and in the flattest voice I’d ever heard her use went, “Fertilized”. I have _never_ seen a guy backpedal so hard.”

Cullen laughed along with Aurum at the situation, rolling his eyes at the merest thought of someone so easily dissolving an otherwise crass pick-up.

“You have interesting friends, Aurum. One who will shut down crass one-liners, and another that makes you wear one to a club for a night.”

Aurum sighed and flung her arms over her head, letting them rest on the floor. Her shirt rode all the way up to nearly expose her bra, and Cullen found himself trying to be busy looking elsewhere. There was booze in his blood and Aurum was by no means unattractive, _and_ they had only managed to get kicked out of the club after doing things that had made blood rush places…southward.

“Dorian means well, he just does things stupidly. I wish he’d just ask me about what he wants from me. He’s my best friend, I share my fucking place with him, we’ve been through hell and back together – but he won’t just ask me why I don’t feel like dating anyone right now. Nor will he ask me to leave the flat for a couple nights in a row so he and Bull can get up to cavorting like they want. Instead, he tries to set me up in ways that are all about as subtle as a rhinestone arrow pointing at my crotch.”

Cullen snorted, and then turned quickly to Aurum, an apology already tumbling out of his mouth.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s funny as fuck. No need to apologize at all.”

He laughed under his breath, now with permission, this time. The whole situation was funny. He had a woman, in his apartment, lounging across his couch in a shirt that told him to get down and eat her out, wearing black leather pants that any Chantry sister would decry as being sinful just for _existing_ , and he was planning on faking a sexual relationship for her to get back at her asshole friend and his asshole friend, and had started this whole thing off by…by…well, by doing things he’d rather not think about just now.

Because she was in his apartment, lounging across his couch and he could see the entire expanse of her muscled stomach, and how those muscles there jumped whenever she giggled. He shook his head, and looked away from her again, his fingers worrying the handle of the closest cabinet.

“I, uh, don’t seem to have much for breakfast other than…well, eggs and some vegetables. Do you like omelettes?”

Aurum sniggered, covering her mouth to keep from being too obnoxiously loud.

“I’m just fine with omelettes, Cullen. Quit fretting. I am a very low-maintenance fake lover, don’t worry.”

Cullen laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and hovering in the small kitchen, unsure of what to do. This was an entirely unexpected turn of events for his day. Night. Whatever. Aurum swung herself around to sit up properly on the couch and looked at Cullen.

“Come sit down, I’m not going to bite, unless it’s required of our cover. We should get to know each other a bit, so we can make this believable, and if Dorian comes back, we can’t be shying away from each other. We have to be comfortable with each other, and know how to touch each other in a way that won’t make the other uncomfortable.”

Her logic was impeccable, and he could not deny she was right. They needed to have the sort of ease and comfort with each other that two people in a ‘real’ relationship would have. He tried to think of the few ‘real’ relationships he had had. None of them started the way this fake one had. None of them had progressed to sloppy, desperate makeouts in a club, with roving hands and tongues and teeth - not even the longest, most successful one had ever gotten that far.

Cullen licked his lips, and nodded. He walked to the couch and sat at the opposite end from her, careful to keep his hands in his lap. Aurum watched him carefully, folding her legs underneath her and waiting.

“Tell me about yourself, Cullen. What do you like?”

“I, uh, I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you like being touched, and where? Where should I not touch, how should I call you, what things are you used to in a relationship? We’re faking a relationship, so tell me what the ideal would be and I can do that.”

He blinked, staring at her, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re serious?”

“Cullen, Dorian is not stupid, he’s just brash, and Bull, I’m pretty sure, is more observant than Dorian is. If the two of them are in on this together, we have to fool them both. Show me, tell me. Let me know what you like, and I’ll do it.”

He swallowed, and stared at Aurum, who scooted closer to him on the couch, slowly reaching her hand out for his. She ran her fingers over the back of his knuckles, not looking up to him, giving him the moments to decide how he wanted to go around this.

“How did you get this scar?” she asked, tracing her thumb down a scar that traced from his first knuckle, down to his wrist. It was thin, barely raised up from his hand.

“I was practicing with my sword. It was an accident. First of many.”

The lie came easily to his lips. Years of experience in that regard made it sound almost right. Aurum’s ears flicked irritably, flaring out from her head for the barest moment before settling back against her head.

“Is that what everyone thinks, then? Do I repeat that lie, or should I press for the truth?”

He pulled his hand out of her questioning grasp, retracting it tightly to his chest. Cullen stared at her, and she stared back, her blue eyes unblinking. He met her gaze sternly, rubbing his own thumb into the scar, trying to erase the feeling of her nimble fingers on his hand.

“It is no _lie_ , Aurum.”

She inclined her head without breaking eye contact with him.

“As you say.”

He huffed and looked away from her, still absentmindedly worrying his hands. For a few moments, there was nothing but silence between the two of them. She had found a line and promptly crossed it, which did not bode well for their blossoming fake-relationship.

“What about the scars on your face Aurum? How did you get those?”

She sighed, reaching up to the silvered lines that traced across her cheek and brow, barely disturbing her eyebrow, but still visible in the fluorescent lights of the living room. For a few long minutes, she did not say anything, staring down at the floor, her mouth turned down into a frown. Her eyes went glassy for a moment, her mind caught in the memory of a time long past.

“Fair enough. I got them from the same group of Templars that killed my mother. I don’t like them being touched or talked about, so if you are going to show affection, kindly do not kiss, or touch the scars. It makes me very unhappy to be reminded of what happened.”

“ _Oh_ , Maker – I didn’t – I didn’t know, I’m sorry, Aurum.”

“Cullen, we are strangers. I would be very confused if you had known. It is not something I talk about, and even Dorian only knows the barest of minimums. I lived with my grandmother until I moved out to share a space with Dorian. Her name is Deshanna, she lives, like most traditional Dalish I know, out in the Free Marches, far from the cities, in the same aravels that we have always used. I grew up there, and only moved here when the Conclave was called.”

“I…see.”

Aurum leaned forward to unzip her shoes, kicking the heeled boots off and away, not paying much attention to where they fell.

“Let’s see. I have a few other scars, but not very many. The others, you may touch as you see fit. They don’t mean much anything, and I don’t really dwell on them overmuch. I don’t think you should pay too much attention to them, either. My favorite color is green, but…it’s the metallic green, the color of those old elvhen armors that you can see at the museum right now. I can’t get enough of it.”

Cullen stared at her. When she talked about her favorite color, she came _alive_ , her eyes sparkling and her mouth pulling into a delightful smile. It was a grand change from the sorrow she had been wearing mere moments before. He found himself smiling with her, grinning along with her, awkwardness over the talk of scars forgotten.

“I love the museums. I drag Dorian along with me every week and he complains all the time. It would really boil his moustache if I took you instead this next week. I’ll show you the armor I’m talking about and everything. If you’re up to it, I’ll take you to my favorite part of the museum after the armor.”

“What part is that?”

“The gemological exhibit! The museum here has an amazing array of gemstones from all over Thedas and even if it doesn’t change often, I spend hours in there every time. It’s probably why Dorian complains so much, really.”

Cullen chuckled, thinking about when he could find time in his schedule to take the trip with her. Even if it was to get a reaction from Dorian and Bull, the idea was pleasing, to say the least. Aurum was nearly glowing from excitement at it all. Sharing something that made her so excited would be something he would do as a boyfriend in truth, and the experience sounded interesting, even outside of the context of a relationship.

“I must confess, I’ve never gone to the museums here. I just never thought about it. But yes, I’ll go to the museums with you.”

“You’ve never been to the museums here? How!? They’re fantastic, and free!”

“I just never…had the time.”

“I’m taking you there as soon as possible. Tell me when your schedule is free, and I’ll come by to take you out. Fake relationship or no, you need to go to the museum.”

He laughed at her exuberance, throwing his head back. Aurum smiled at him and shook her head.

“Alright, your turn. Tell me something about yourself, so I at least look the part of attentive girlfriend.”

“Oh, um. My favorite color is red.”

“I can guess that. You turn red often enough.”

Cullen wished he didn’t blush in response to that, but he did, and she giggled at him, flicking a finger against his nose. He flinched and wrinkled his nose at her.

“ _Moving on_ , Aurum. I spend my free time, what little of it there is around my work, volunteering at the children’s shelter. I don’t get to volunteer nearly as often as I would like, as my job keeps me rather well occupied, but I never tire of going to see the children.”

She stared, open-mouthed at him.

“You’re kidding me. That’s adorable. Haven’s the name, right?”

“You know it?”

“I go visit some of the elvhen orphans on occasion. The ones with mage-talent, I can usually get adopted out to one of the Clans I know of. It’s something small, but I know that they’re loved more than the sun and stars. Family is so important to my people that it seems like the only thing to do.”

“They’re so young, how can you tell that they have Talent?”

Aurum snickered and looked at Cullen out of the corner of her eye.

“Cullen, I am the First of my Clan. I know when a child has the Talent. I know it before they do, and almost always before any Templar could ever guess at it. Most all Keepers and Firsts can do the same thing.”

“That would take incredible power,” he said, shifting away from her uncomfortably, as if unnerved by the thought of her bearing that much strength.

“Not as much as you may have been lead to believe. It is only looking and listening for a song before it was sung. Think of it like sheet music – I just happen to be better at sightreading the music than others. I read it before it plays, and Templars have to hear the song first.”

He blinked at her, but nodded.

“Alright then. Well maybe you should come down and volunteer with me sometimes. If you can identify some of those who have Talent we can-”

“Cullen, I need you to listen very carefully to what I am going to say,” Aurum interrupted, her voice cold.

“Of course, Aurum.”

“Never suggest that I tell you who is and is not a mage. Never again. My people’s traditions were nearly wiped out by the Circle and the Templars, and forced conversion to the Maker. We have lost our Empire, our magic, our way of living to those like you, and I would rather throw myself into the Gallows and slit my own damned wrists than endanger a child-mage by telling anyone who could tell a Templar.”

He swallowed his momentary fear at her ferocity, and nodded. Her blue eyes were dancing with fury, and the air was suddenly thick with power.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to…offend.”

Aurum relaxed, and shrugged a single shoulder, looking away from Cullen, back towards the door.

“I know you didn’t. I’m not offended, I just...there is too much that has happened between what you were once, and who I am. I cannot bring myself to trust the system that focused on enslaving those like me. It is a touchy subject, and why I am unsure as to Dorian’s game by trying to force the two of us together.”

“I…see. I don’t want to make you feel like I’m going to try and attack you or drag you back to somewhere awful to be counted as a mage for everyone to see. I’m not a Templar anymore, and the Order knows better than to try and call on me.”

“That does make it better. Though I confess uncertainty in understanding how someone cannot be a Templar after _being_ a Templar. Your word is good enough, you’ve done nothing to make me think you won’t keep it, but I really don’t like this topic.”

“I left the order, and I stopped taking lyrium. Without it, I am not a Templar. I cannot use the powers Templars are known for, so I cannot call myself one.”

Aurum’s ears ticked again, and she tilted her head back to Cullen, uncertainty in her eyes. He met her gaze and held it for a moment, not entirely sure what to say to her. For a long moment, they simply looked at each other, intimate in the way that was only slightly uncomfortable. Cullen was the first to break eye contact, leaning back on the couch and reaching for the hem of his stupid shirt.

He lifted his shirt, and Aurum blinked very fast, trying to understand what was happening. The broad expanse of his torso was revealed, and his fingers traced out a scar that went from his left hip, and cut across to just beneath his sternum. Aurum tried to focus on the scar and not on the way his muscles tensed, or how cut he was, or the way his hipbones jutted up against his skin or how _good_ his pants looked against the trail of hair that lead down from his navel. Creators be good to her, this man was _attractive_.

“I got this when I was seven. I was playing at being a soldier and was bested by a blackberry bramble.”

Aurum couldn’t help the surprised snorting sound that spilled out of her mouth. Horrified she just offended Cullen, she looked up to him, clasping both hands over her mouth. He chuckled, and pulled his shirt back down.

“No, you’re right. It’s quite funny. I had to explain that to my older sister, and she has yet to let me live it down. The ferocious Templar and Commander, brought down once in his youth by a bramble. It’s almost as bad as losing a chess match to her. There’s a reason I hardly ever suffer her presence.”

“You have other siblings?”

“Two brothers and my sister, yes. Do you?”

“No, I’m an only child. My mother died when I was young, and she had already separated from my father at that time. My grandmother raised me, and I consider my Clan to be my family, but it’s not really…bloodline-relations.”

Cullen nodded along.

They talked for a few hours more, until the clock beneath Cullen’s television was informing them it was three in the morning in angry red letters. Aurum looked at it, squinting to make sure she was reading it right. She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket to verify that it was indeed so early in the morning. It only drew an exasperated sigh from her mouth.

“We’re going to have to get to bed. Dorian will show up in the morning, for sure, and it’s easier to lie if you’ve slept a bit. I, for one, get really bad at lying if I’m drunk, high, or tired. So I’ll be trying to not be any of those things in the next few weeks. C’mon, let’s get to bed.”

She stood and extended a hand out to Cullen, trying to maintain the brevity in her voice that she had been holding onto all evening.

“I-I, uh, I’ll get some blankets and sleep on the couch. You can have the bed tonight, I mean…”

Aurum sighed, and pulled Cullen to his feet.

“Dorian will notice if we do something that stupid. Come on, we’re just sleeping in the same bed. I’ve done it with Dorian hundreds of times, it’s just _sleeping_. Besides, it’ll help the story along if it’s obvious we’ve been in close contact with each other. Fair warning though – I am well known for stealing sheets.”

Cullen laughed nervously, and followed behind her, pointing out the door to his bedroom when she confessed not knowing which of the rooms was his. Unsurprisingly, his bed was covered in red and gold, but when Aurum ran her fingers across the linens, she was surprised to find them soft to the touch. Expensive, then.

“Would you happen to have a pair of shorts or something I could wear? Leather is great and all, but I am not going to sleep in these pants if I can avoid it.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Let me grab them,” Cullen said absently, turning to his dresser and rummaging for a clean pair of pajama bottoms.

There was a rustling from behind him, and when he turned back, Aurum was pulling her bra off from underneath her practically see-through shirt. His breath caught as he watched her fling it across the room. It knocked a few of his knick-knacks over, but he was still far more entranced with Aurum reaching down to unbutton her pants and slid them down her hips with a little wiggle to unstick the tight material from her skin. He tried to look away, he really did, especially when she bent over to work her feet out of the restrictive leg-holes, but he could see the emerald lace of her underwear peeking out from beneath the hem of her shirt and –

“Just give me the pants, Cullen.”

He blushed scarlet and held the flannel pajamas out to her. Aurum snatched them away and had them on within seconds.

“I can sleep on the floor…that should be good enough, I think?” he said lamely as Aurum wasted no time getting into his bed and under his covers, wiggling into the great soft depths of _his_ bed with an entirely-too happy sigh.

“Just get in your bed, Cullen. I’m not going to bite you unless you’re into that sort of thing and need some bruises to show off in the morning.”

She could practically hear the blush that raced across his face, and with a long sigh, she turned onto her side to stare at him. He stripped out of the stupid shirt he had been made to wear, and then out of his pants, quickly putting on a pair of sweatpants, but not bothering to put on a shirt again. His blush darkened the skin of his chest, and the sight made Aurum grin. All that muscle, all on display. He did not reply to her statement, just stood awkwardly at the side of the bed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck

“I’m a very physical lover. I like seeing my marks on the people I take to bed. I like leaving hickies, I like leaving scratches. We can say I just heal them afterwards, but that would require you knowing I’m a mage. Whichever is easier on you, really.”

Cullen swallowed the fast-forming knot in his throat at the idea. Because he liked it when the women in his bed left physical reminders of their presence on his body. He liked the bruises in the morning, he liked the ache of the taxed muscles, the sting of scratches. He was not, however, overly fond of thinking about asking someone he had known for maybe a handful of hours to put their hands on him for the sake of pretending. But it was necessary.

“I...I’d like that. The marks, I mean – in a relationship, I like that. You don’t need to say you healed them, just I -”

“Come here then, lay down. I should put everything in place now, so they’re appropriately aged when Dorian comes by tomorrow. Are you certain you’re okay with this? It’s not necessary and I want to be certain that you’re not uncomfortable and only saying yes because you think you need to or something.”

He coughed and turned his head, unable to meet her gaze. Cullen flicked the light off in the room, leaving them in darkness. Slowly, he edged into his bed, careful not to touch her, lying very still on the other half of the bed. Aurum reached out for him, gently brushing her fingers across his bared chest, but retracted her hand when he shifted away from her.

“Well it’s not exactly common for me to…it’s not common for someone to offer to what you’re offering in seriousness, all for the sake of embarrassing a friend.”

“Like I said. If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to do this. I can go sleep on the couch and in the morning, just go with Dorian. I won’t bother you with this petty revenge if you don’t want to be involved.”

Cullen sighed and covered his face.

“I want to help, but Maker is it _odd_ , that’s all. I’m going to let someone I hardly know pin me down and give me hickies in the name of petty revenge.”

Aurum snickered and rolled herself halfway up onto Cullen, running her hands down his chest, rasping her fingernails gently down his ribs. He gasped, arching up into the sensation. She leaned up to press her mouth against his neck.

“I didn’t say anything about pinning you down, but if you prefer it that way, I can be obliging.”

She pressed down on his arms and dipped her mouth to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, biting and suckling until she was certain there was a darkening bruise there. Slowly, she repeated the motion a few more times, moving lower and lower down Cullen’s chest, leaving a pattern of hickies in her wake. The last one, she pressed into the dip of his hip, pulling his sweatpants down just the slightest bit so that the mark would peek out from above whatever pants he chose to wear.

“Good enough, or do you want some scratches too, serah?” she asked, looking up to Cullen.

Elvhen eyes were naturally better at seeing in the dark, and she knew better than to try and look him in the eye. There was an odd sort of intimacy about this whole situation, and it was, after all, only a joke. Just for fun. To get back at Dorian. She could convince herself of that much if she paid attention to what she was _doing_ in order to further her goal of making her friend look stupid, and not at all to how Cullen was breathing differently, and how warm he was, and everything else.

He nodded and tensed, waiting for the –

“ _Aah-hn_ Maker!”

\- feeling of her nails raking down his side. She wrapped an arm around his waist, and scratched again, just hard enough to leave an angry red line following behind. Cullen bit down on his lip to keep a traitorous exhalation in as her fingers trailed fire across his back and sides. She finished her work rather quickly, and retreated back to her side of the bed, curling beneath the blankets and waiting for Cullen to speak.

“Good enough, you think?” he grunted, sitting up to look at the pattern of bruises and welts that now traced across his torso.

Aurum shrugged, doing her best to not smile stupidly at the marks. She had not been lying when she said she liked seeing her partners patterned with bruises and scratches. The small fact that Cullen already had scars aplenty and she had lain down her own desires atop of them only made it all the better to see.

“It’ll do for one night, I suppose.”

“Now, your turn?”

She blinked, and nodded, opening her mouth to offer a suggestion, but Cullen had already moved, holding her down with his weight as he turned her head to the side so he could mouth the skin just behind her earlobe. Aurum tensed, and then shuddered as he began the process of leaving a hickey right at one of the most sensitive parts of her neck. She had to hold her breath to hold the _sounds_ in because Cullen was very good at finding all the pleasurable spots on her neck and shoulders to leave barely-there marks that tingled pleasantly.

He drew away after leaving only a handful of marks down the side of her neck, stopping well before the collar of her shirt. Aurum sighed and pulled her collar down, pointing to the spot on her collarbone that would be exposed in about half of her normal clothing. Cullen smirked at her, his scar pulling his lip sideways, and then obliged her wordless demand, sealing his lips over the point she had indicated.

The breathy exhalation that tumbled from her lips when she felt his teeth press against bone, she could not help. Nor could she help the way she reached up for him, trying to hold him closer. It should have unnerved her how well his lips and teeth pulled those sounds from deep in her chest, but she only let her head fall back further as he left his mark on her flesh all over again. One of his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up, until her chest was pressed flush against him. His strength, and the ease of showing it, made her breath hitch, and a small sound of surprise tip from the corners of her lips.

She felt him smile against her neck, felt the scar and how its texture was different from the rest of his skin, and exhaled sharply.

“Good enough?” she hissed when he finally let her go. Aurum was trying for “casually unaffected” with a dash of “sassily returning previous phrase back to the original speaker” and instead, ended up squarely in “a little breathless from arousal please don’t notice”.

“For one night.”

Of course, Cullen managed to command the tone she had been attempting to use with effortless ease. He did not even stammer. Aurum rolled her eyes as he rolled back onto ‘his’ side of the bed, and turned her back to him, curling back under his sheets, and doing her best to not rub at the still-tingling new marks on her skin, and to ignore the throb of desire that had started to form in her belly.

She did not know it, but Cullen was doing the same thing over on his side of the bed, trying to will his arousal to abate, pressing questioning fingers against the blooming bruises, feeling out the rising welts, running his tongue over his lips to see if he could taste her still. Neither was aware of the other’s turmoil. Perhaps that was for the best.

Sleep stole over them both, lulling them down into dreamlessness.


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen woke up first, sitting up quickly, clutching at his chest, and a strangled sound coming out of his mouth. Thankfully, Aurum did not seem to notice, still tangled in the majority of his sheets and blankets, just as she said she would. Her breaths came at an even, slow pace, assuring him that she was still asleep and not faking it for his sake. The nightmares never ceased, but at least he was not going to have to explain them to her just yet.

As quietly as he could manage, he slid out of bed, out of his pajama bottoms, and into a clean pair of jeans. Aurum would be awake soon, he was sure. It was nearly nine in the morning, he noted as he looked to his oft-abused alarm clock, and he was certain she would want to eat when she finally woke up. Stupid joke about fertilized eggs notwithstanding, she had not gotten anything to eat the night before, and it would be a bad move on his part, as a host, to not at least try and provide breakfast to her.

His short visit to the bathroom let him look over the result of Aurum’s work from the night before. He had a line of hickies trailing down his left side, from his neck, stopping just at the hem of his pants. Biting his lip he pushed his jeans down right over where her mark was, and spent a good while staring at the mark, first in the mirror, and then just by looking down. It was easily the darkest of the marks, one that would have otherwise indicated the start, or end, of something far more sensual.

Cullen had to shake his head to stop the rapidly spiraling thoughts. It had been hard enough last night to stop thinking about Aurum long enough to fall asleep. Starting his morning off with more of the same thoughts was not going to help him, not in the slightest. They were just faking the relationship, just to embarrass their friends, to –

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” he growled when the frantic knocking at his door started.

He rushed to answer it, knowing who it was going to be before he even had his hand on the deadbolt.

Cullen pulled his door open to the sight of The Iron Bull and his irate not-boyfriend just outside. Dorian burst in as soon as there was even the hint of the door opening, nearly hitting Cullen with his shoulder.

“Where’s Aurum?” the Tevinter snarled, turning sharply on his heel to confront Cullen, who stepped aside to let Bull in.

“Good morning, Cullen. How’s it going?” Bull offered far more amiably, waiting for the door to be opened all the way before delicately dipping his head to enter.

“She’s asleep still, please keep your voices down. I was about to start making breakfast, have you eaten?”

“No, Dorian made a fuss and we had to come here as soon as possible. What d’you got?”

“Eggs and cereal. I was going to make Aurum an omlette with some of the vegetables I have left over and-”

“We’ll get breakfast on the way home. She likes pancakes more than omlettes anyway. Which one is your room?”

Cullen frowned and turned on Dorian, both hands on his hips, golden eyes flashing dangerously.

“You are not waking her up. She needs to rest. I was – we were up late last night and I want her to sleep. I’ll make breakfast for everyone. If you want pancakes, go to the store and get the ingredients, and I’ll make them.”

Dorian stared at him, his mouth drawn down into a frown. Cullen went to start on preparing breakfast in his small kitchen, starting with the omlette he was sure Aurum would want when she eventually made her appearance. Dorian opened his mouth to object, to challenge Cullen for the right to defend Aurum’s honor, but a door opened to his side, and the hotly contested Aurum ambled out.

Cullen turned to the door of his room, an early-morning greeting on his lips. He meant to be nice, to greet her as a gentleman and appreciative lover would, but…she was wearing his shirt from last night, the collar gaping at her neck, exposing all of the marks he had left on her skin. She was _only_ wearing his shirt, and those lacy emerald green panties that peeked out from beneath it whenever she took a step. Her thighs were abraded, slightly reddened as if they had spent the night doing exactly what the shirts had suggested. Her hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction. Her lips were flushed, as were her cheeks, and she walked straight to Cullen’s side as if no one else was even there.

He reached out to her, and she curled into his side, nuzzling his neck affectionately and humming happily. She held onto him loosely, playing the part of sleepy girlfriend nearly too well, seeking affection from him with a sigh and a small wiggle of her hips.

Cullen pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she purred at him, leaning up to nip at the lobe of his ear. One of her hands meandered down to slide into one of his rear pockets and gave a good, long squeeze.

“Morning, emma mi. Are you making breakfast?” she asked softly, yawning halfway through her question.

“Yes. Did you still want an omlette?”

“Please.”

Aurum remained against his side as he started to cook, apparently content to stay exactly where she was and never move. Cullen did the best he could with only one arm and a cuddle-needy elf doing her best to distract him. She had a free hand, and rather than help, she seemed determined to drive him to distraction. She toyed with the waistband of his jeans, smiling and giggling whenever she ran her thumb over the mark she had left on his hip, and then amused herself by tracing the outline of all the muscles she could reach.

“Are you going to make omlettes for Dorian and Bull?”

“Bull, yes, Dorian, no.”

From behind them, there was a surprised gasp, and a deep chuckle. Up until now, Dorian had been quietly seething, seeing Aurum dressed in a too-large shirt that belonged to some random asshole Bull knew, with marks on her skin where he was so used to seeing none.

“Was Dorian a dick? Is that why he shouldn’t get breakfast?”

“He’s your friend, so I’m not going to say that.”

“If I said it, would you agree?”

“Are you saying it?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

Aurum laughed and looked over her shoulder to where Dorian was standing, arms crossed and moustache twitching irritably.

“Fair enough, Cullen. I suppose I should go put my trousers back on before the food is ready. I’d hate to burn my thighs. They’re already such a pretty shade of red.”

She reached up to run her hand down the side of Cullen’s cheek, letting his stubble rasp her hand. He turned to look down at her, the barest of blushes on his cheeks. Aurum kissed him with a smile on her lips, and Cullen reciprocated with a groan, pulling her flush against him to kiss her soundly. Aurum sighed when he finally let her go, and turned to amble back to his room. He took the opportunity to swat her on the rump, an appreciative ‘mmf’ coming out of his mouth at the moment of impact.

Aurum jumped only slightly, and then was grinning widely, sashaying back to Cullen’s room, the lace hem her panties still peeking out with every hip-swaying step she took.

She closed the door behind her, leaving the three men alone together.

Dorian said nothing, merely stared daggers at Cullen, who was moderately certain that if Dorian really wanted to, he could set his hair on fire. Bull was smiling dopily, staring at the door Aurum had vanished behind. Dorian noticed after a few moments and smacked the huge Qunari in the arm.

“What? You gotta admit, she’s got a _great_ ass.”

“ **Yeah** she does,” Cullen growled, nodding along to Bull’s glowing praise. “Best ass I’ve seen in, or out, of leather pants.”

Dorian glowered. Cullen finished cooking the omlettes, plating them on the few pieces of real dishware he had, and setting them in front of his guests.

“Aurum, breakfast is ready!” he called to the still-missing woman as he went to fetch the forks for Bull and Dorian.

“I can’t find my bra! Where did you throw it?”

Cullen sighed, rolling his eyes and placing the forks down on the table. Dorian seethed, gritting his teeth nearly hard enough to make them shatter. Bull was still grinning toothily, looking between Cullen and Dorian.

“Did you check the shelves? I thought it had knocked everything over there.”

“I can’t _find_ it, Cullen. Come help me?”

The wheedling tone had Cullen walking _very_ quickly back towards his room. The door opened for him as soon as he drew close and with a very feminine giggle, Aurum peeked her head out, just far enough for Dorian and Bull to both see that she was completely topless, before she was twining her fingers through Cullen’s beltloops and pulling him into the room.

The door slammed shut, and mere seconds later, there was the loud thud of someone being pushed up against it roughly. Dorian groaned and covered his ears, cursing loudly in Tevene. Bull leaned back in the chair he had selected for himself (the same one he sat in whenever he came by to visit Cullen – the only one that he was confident could bear his weight) and smirked. This was goddamned entertaining as hell.

Inside the room, Cullen had Aurum crowded up against the door, her hair fisted in his hand, and his mouth slanted greedily across her own. He grabbed her ass, grinding his cock up against her barely-there panties, every thrust of his hips translating into a deep thud against the door. He did not reach for her bared breasts, contenting himself with ferociously demanding kisses that stole her breath away.

Her head tipped back and he took the opportunity to dip his own down so he could suck another hickey into existence on her throat, still rolling his hips against hers. She moaned, low and long, an unconscious sound she could not help, arching her back. Cullen made a replying sound, deep and needy when she bit his lip. Creators, that sound should not make her feel what she felt right then.

“What do you think you’re _doing_?” she hissed under her breath, careful to keep her voice low enough so that Dorian or Bull could not hear.

“My not-girlfriend just about flashed one of my friends and his boyfriend, after flouncing her ass around wearing only my shirt. If I didn’t come back here and make you scream, I think they’d suspect something,” Cullen growled, biting her ear.

Aurum gasped, her fist banging against the door. A curse spilled out of her mouth, something filthy and Dalish, and from the other side of the door, she heard Dorian’s mumbled Tevene rising in volume as he grew more and more irate.

“Creators preserve me, _Cullen!_ ” she gasped when he repeated the movement, biting her ear and grinding his teeth across her ear lobe.

Her hips bucked against his, and she was not at all surprised to feel Cullen’s cock hard and throbbing against her. All at once, she was very much aware that she was only in a silk and lace pair of panties, and he was only wearing a pair of jeans and that made another stuttering moan spill from her lips. Cullen was quick to seal his mouth across hers again and drink the sounds down, trying to keep her quiet, or give the appearance of trying to keep her quiet for the sake of their guests.

He even growled a slightly-too-loud "Hush, Aurum, they'll _hear_ you," at her, but that only made her moan again, which he tried to muffle with another kiss.

It did not really work. He kept kissing her regardless, pinning her against the door with all of his considerable strength, and Creators preserve her Aurum _loved_ it. She not-at-all quietly told him as much, mumbling it into his mouth whenever he pulled back far enough for her to gasp for air and mutter a word or two.

The pounding that came from the other side of the door snapped them both out of the trance they had fallen into.

“If the two of you are _quite_ done fucking against the door, Aurum and I have to leave. You have work today, dammit!”

Aurum waited a moment, looking at the door out of the corner of her eye, and then back to Cullen. With an entirely too pleased grin, she wormed one of her hands in between her and Cullen to stroke his cock through the fabric of his jeans.

The abruptness of the action elicited a gasping moan from Cullen, and Dorian, on the other side of the door, made a disgusted noise beneath his breath and retreated. Aurum giggled and ducked under Cullen’s arm, quickly dressing herself with an efficiency that managed to impress Cullen, even through the haze of arousal that dogged him. She had those tight leather pants on and up over her pleasantly curved hips before he could find a shirt, and had her bra and shirt from the night before in place before he could get his own shirt on.

“I put my number in your phone. Let me know when you’re free and I’ll take you to the museums. I think it’d be best if I just came over some days, to make Dorian think whatever he’ll end up thinking. It’d be harder to fake it at my place, anyway. Thanks for doing this,” Aurum said diplomatically, reaching down to adjust the hem of her shirt like she had not been…well, pinned against a door with Cullen’s tongue halfway down her throat.

“Uh, yeah. Anytime, Aurum.”

“Good.”

She winked at him, a conspiratorial gesture that did nothing to help the lust that had alight in his blood. Maker, but she was beautiful.

Quickly, with the familiarity bred from having to do the same thing thousands of times before, Aurum reached up and ran her fingers through her hair, straightening the snarls with ease. Cullen swallowed harshly, not knowing what to do with the urge to run his hands back through her newly-neatened hair, just to muss it again. She would not appreciate such a thing, he was sure, but that did not stop the urge from rising like a tide in his blood.

“Bye!” she chirruped happily and then swept out of his room, closing the door behind her, already diving into a spirited conversation with Dorian.

The trio left without much preamble, and all at once, Cullen was left standing alone in his own apartment, with three whole omlettes to eat on his own.

Oh, and a cock that he honestly could never remember being as hard as it was right then. That too. Whatever he had gotten himself into, he had a feeling he was going to be getting really familiar with his hand again because _Maker_ was Aurum good with her tongue. The way she had twined it around his own, and then pressed it to his neck after she had left a hickey, and then used it to lave a wet stripe all across his throat –

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed, quickly checking that his front door was locked before hastily making his way back to his room, leaving the omlettes for cleaning later.

* * *

 

[You still owe me breakfast, Cullen.]

The text message came a few hours later, after Cullen had cleaned his kitchen and himself up. His phone chirruped at him as the next message came through.

[[Well it’s a little late for breakfast.]]

[I’ll accept lunch tomorrow as a replacement. Do you like Seheron food?]

[[Yeah, actually. Bull knows this one restaurant that’s pretty close by. I’ll get the address to you.]]

[Don’t bother, I know the one you’re talking about. Bull and Dorian go there all the time.]

Cullen chuckled to himself. Of course she had thought ahead. It would be a fake-date then, in probable full view of the people who had tried to set them up.

[[Right.]]

[If you’re free afterwards, wanna spend some time at the museum?]

He didn’t respond right away, looking at the text and trying to consider his schedule. He was not as busy as he had been in previous weeks. It would be easy to make time for lunch and a trip to the museum. Still, Cullen hesitated. He wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. They were faking. This was all fake, all to get back at their friends for trying to something so stupid as to set them up on a blind date without any forewarning.

It was all fake, and he still had a weird feeling in his stomach. The same one he had gotten with his previous, very _real_ girlfriends just before they had finalized plans together. But this was fake. He and Aurum were not actually together, they were _not_.

But his hands still shook as he typed out his next message.

[[Sounds good. See you then, Aurum!]]

[See you, emma mi.]

He almost texted her to ask what it meant, but thought better of it at the last moment and deleted the message. He could ask her about it later. Maybe tomorrow, over some Seheron food that would burn their throats and burn their friends to know they ate it together.

* * *

 

Cullen made the wholly unneeded reservation as soon as the restaurant opened the morning of their not-date. The poor person who answered the phone was confused as all hells, but agreed to reserve a table for two under his name. The next task was finding something to wear. It was a fake-date.

What does someone wear on a fake-date?

Something nice?

Something too nice?

Something normal?

What’s normal to wear on a fake-date for lunch and a trip to the museum?

Does he try and cover up the bruises that still littered his skin, or leave them open for Dorian and Bull to see? Aurum said she liked seeing her marks on her…lovers, so it would make sense if he left them exposed for her benefit. But that still left everything else.

Cullen sighed and buried his face in his hands. Maker, this was more difficult than he thought it would be. It did not help that he was now thinking about what Aurum had said about her likes and dislikes and how well she had directed him to a place on her skin that would have her gasping and writhing all for the sake of fooling her friend. He thought about the taste of her skin – salt and the smoke-sweet taste of magic - how it had felt beneath his tongue, the way her voice had broken over his name when he had –

“ _Andraste’s tits_ ,” he swore, reaching up to scrub at his face again. He needed to stop thinking about that. About how they got kicked out of the club, about the bruises on her skin and his and how they got there, and most of all, about how he had had her pinned up against his bedroom door for no reason other than that he had _wanted_ and had had the mental capacity to lie convincingly when she had questioned him.

He felt bad about the lie, he did, but…

“Shit buggering _fuck_ ,” he growled to no one but himself, trying to shove everything deep down inside. He needed to get dressed and call in sick to work so he could cavort with Aurum and piss off Dorian.

* * *

 

Aurum strode purposefully into the restaurant, Dorian skulking behind her, before peeling away to go sit with Bull on the opposite end of the restaurant from Cullen. He had been shocked when she said she was coming to meet with Cullen, and then shocked again when she had told him he didn’t need to come along to the museum this week because Cullen was going with her instead.

She saw Cullen, sitting at a table on his own and with a wide smile, sneaking up behind him. Dorian barely contained the sound of disgust when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and bent down to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. Cullen jumped, startled, and then relaxed almost immediately as he recognized that it was Aurum. He turned his head to return the affection, kissing her back without a second thought.

“Hey you,” he said dreamily as she pulled away, staring openly at her.

“Emma mi,” was her response, spoken around a smile.

She sat across from him, smiling broadly, crossing her legs beneath the table. Cullen’s smile faltered as he caught sight of what she was wearing. It was not as overtly sexy as what she had worn to the club, but then again, she had been dressed for a _club_ , then. But it was still hard not to look at her. Her hair was pulled back into a simple bun, and she wore a chunky sapphire-blue scarf to somewhat hide the marks he had left, but it was a bad coverage. It just made the few glimpses he could catch around the scarf all the more entrancing.

The rest of her outfit was as normal as any outfit could be. A rust-red sweater, a pair of jeans, some golden bangles on her wrists. All and all? Nothing fancy, but still. He could not look away. He had opted for a dark blue collared, button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up over his elbows, and a pair of black jeans. She smiled shyly at him, turning her attention down to her menu, leaving one of her hands resting atop the table, while she ran the other down the menu. It was mostly in Qunlat, with helpful translations explaining what was involved in each dish.

When Cullen reached across to gently take her unoccupied hand with his own, she looked up for the barest of moments, a small smile on her lips. She squeezed his hand (and tried to keep her smile from being too wide when she heard Dorian’s muttered Tevene from over Cullen’s shoulder) and, as if this was a casual occurrence for the two of them, calmly went back to her menu.

The lunch date went magnificently. They made appropriately subdued small talk, asking after the other’s day and the status of their jobs and other banalities that were utterly useless for anything other than pretending a relationship was forming. Cullen gently rubbed his thumb across the back of her knuckles, a repetitive, soothing movement that was certainly something Dorian or Bull couldn’t see. Why he insisted upon it, then, she did not know, but she was not going to tell him to stop. It was nice, after all, and she saw no reason to stop him.

The food, when it came, was hot, and spicy, everything someone would expect from Seheron cuisine. Together, they got through the food, each enjoying their own dish and sharing bites across the table with each other. They shared casual touches, gentle brushes of fingers across wrists, hesitant kisses to knuckles, things that were intimate, but not overly so. Intimate in a socially acceptable way, in a way that spoke of a new relationship, but one that was going to bloom into something more.

Aurum smiled bashfully when Cullen showered her in compliments, and he blushed when she returned them.

All throughout, there was a background soundtrack of an increasingly incensed Tevinter man who could not keep his comments to himself regarding the blossoming relationship he was observing. Aurum had to fight to keep her face straight, but Cullen chuckled under his breath at every curse he hissed at Cullen’s back.

She allowed Cullen to pay for lunch with a minimal amount of fuss, kissing his hand fondly afterwards. He gallantly helped her to her feet, and Aurum gladly held onto his hand.

“To the museum, then?”

“I thought you would never ask, Cullen. Come on then!”

With a smile and a laugh, the two left the restaurant, and Bull had to hold Dorian back from following them all the way to the museum. When he reminded Dorian that this was _precisely_ what he had wanted for Aurum in the first place, the smaller man took a swing at him, snarling about how Aurum was not supposed to want _Cullen_ of all people. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t proper, did she even **know** what Cullen was?

Bull only smiled and tried to soothe his irate boyfriend, who was still spitting mad and trying to go after the two. It was adorable when his little danger got himself all worked up, not that Bull would ever say that to Dorian. Dorian far preferred more flowery language than ‘adorable’.

“Why are you so bent on this, ‘Vint?”

Dorian only managed a throaty snarl at the idea of Aurum and Cullen as _together_ as they were.

“Dorian, come on. Calm down. You suggested him, and now that they’ve hit it off, you haven’t stopped sneering. You’ll get a wrinkle at this rate.”

“Don’t joke about such things, Bull.”

Of course the only thing that could bring Dorian out of his funk was a sideways jab at his looks. Bull had to stop himself from rolling his remaining eye. Honestly, the things his little danger did.

“Look, just give it time. If they’re so unmatched, they’ll fall apart within the week.”

They did no such thing, to Dorian’s eternal fury.

No, as the weeks wore on, closer and closer to the Winter Ball, it seemed as if he saw less and less of Aurum. When they weren’t working at the bookshop they owned together, he barely saw her at all. She would come home at hours far later than she ever did before, breathless, her lips plump from too many passionate kisses, and she would _blush_ if he ever brought up the marks that he saw constantly appearing on her skin.

He hardly ever saw Cullen, but Bull assured him that the (ex-)Templar was looking much the same, always wearing a dopey grin and running his fingers or tongue over his lips when he thought Bull was not looking.

Aurum would giggle whenever she got a text from Cullen, and never let Dorian see what, exactly it was that she was laughing at in a very un-Aurum-like way. He tried to steal her phone, tried to wait for there to be a moment where she was not around so he could sneak a peek at it, but it never came. She never let her phone out of her sight, or out of her control, which made every muffled giggle he would hear at the wee hours of the morning all the more frustrating.

Dorian brought it up to Bull when the two of them were tangled together on the couch, waiting for Aurum to return home (Bull insisted that they not go to Cullen’s place and interrupt again).

“Why do you need to see her phone?” Bull asked, turning to look down at Dorian.

The Tevinter sighed, throwing his hands in the air, but declined to answer.

* * *

 

Aurum, for her own part, was in a pair of comfortable plaid pajamas that she was certain, at one point, belonged to Cullen, but now were solely her own. She never heard Cullen raise an objection to her walking in and putting them on at least, and they were always clean when she would come over, folded up neatly in her spot on the couch. It was late, regardless. Cullen had already gone to sleep, leaving Aurum to her own devices. Curled up on his couch, reading one of the books from her own bookshop that she had not read in a while, with the television on to provide background noise and some light, Aurum was as relaxed as she could ever really get when she heard it.

It was a whimper, a whine, a sound of distress that did not belong in Cullen’s apartment.

Her ears flicked back and forth, tracking the sound as accurately as any beast could. Worry gripped her heart in a stranglehold, and she got up off the couch, flicked the nearby light off, crouching low and advancing through the mostly-dark apartment. If something was happening, she wanted to be prepared for it. Her grandmother had trained her both in the arcane arts and more…practical defenses.

When Templars were a threat to you and everyone you loved, you needed to have more than just magic.

Dorian learned that the hard way once, when he had decided to tackle her in the middle of a friendly spar, and had ended up with a broken nose, two black eyes and a limp that had lasted for a week. Aurum could handle herself, with or without her magic. There were knives scattered about her drawers for a reason.

She had spent too long running, too long in fear for her to feel truly at ease somewhere if there was not a blade somewhere close by.

The sounds increased in intensity and frequency, and Aurum abandoned her crouch.

“Cullen?” she called into the darkness of his apartment, straining to hear what was going on. Was he under attack? What was causing the distress?

She received no response.

Aurum swallowed the nervous knot rising in her stomach and reached for the handle of his bedroom door. Since the first night, they’d not slept together, since there was no reason to. Dorian and Bull had no reason to come by to visit them anymore, so she usually just took up residence on the couch and waited out the time. She and Cullen had no real reason to even interact, other than to make sure the other had the appropriate marks and look to them and whatnot, and the thought of entering his room made her pause.

“Cullen?”

Another whimper – a moan.

She entered the room, holding her breath, hoping she was not going to interfere in something intimate…or private.

Cullen was shirtless (something they both agreed on – wearing shirts to bed was awful), and tangled in his sheets. The light filtering through his blinds shone off the sweat on his chest, and with the door open, she could hear all the sounds Cullen was making. It was definitely not the sounds of pleasure, but fear and pain. He thrashed against some unseen foe, crying out –

“No – _no!_ No, leave me! Leave me be!”

“Cullen, Cullen, wake up, please.”

Slowly, she advanced on the bed, trying to stay low, in case he woke up disoriented. He was having a nightmare. A bad one. The closer she drew to him, the more she could feel the disruption in the Fade around him, in the same way any mage could. It was a strong dream then, one that felt more real than others would. It could be a memory –a trauma relived in the night.

“Leave me! Leave me _be_!”

“Cullen, emma mi,” Aurum started, the oft-used-to-irritate-Dorian petname falling from her lips without a second thought. “Cullen, hamin, dareth, darera. This is a dream, you are safe, relax.”

She came closer to him, near enough to touch, but she still hesitated, unsure what would be best in this situation. He was  _once_ a Templar, he was very dangerous to her, he was her fake-boyfriend and almost-friend and she was worried about him. Those who had such vivid dreams without being mages were often scarred by things far darker than mere nightmares.

“Dar’halam, it is finished. Cullen, please.”

Her fingers brushed his chest.

He sat up with a curse, roused out of the dream as soon as his skin touched hers. For a brief moment, relief flushed through her, but that relief vanished when he grabbed her and threw her into the bed, pinning her down with a hand on her throat, and the other holding her hands above her head. He snarled at her, and she could feel the crackle of a Templar’s ability rush along her skin. She swallowed down her apprehension and willed herself to be calm. He may not have enough lyrium in him to be a full-blooded Templar, but there was enough left over, it appeared, for him to do that much, at least.

“ _Mage_ ,” he sneered.

“Cullen, you know me. I’m Aurum. When is it?”

“ _Mage_ , you are out of the Circle, you have no right to be here. Why are you here?”

“Cullen, I am Aurum. I am not a Circle mage, I'm _Dalish_. You know this. I’m your-” she caught herself, unsure of how to explain what they were. “I’m your friend. These are your pajamas. This is your apartment, in Skyhold. We are in Skyhold. It’s currently around one in the morning. I was about to leave.”

“ **Apostate**.”

“Well I can’t deny that, really,” Aurum huffed, regretting her snarky reply when his hand tightened on her throat enough to make spots start to dance across her vision.

“I’m going to drag you back to the Circle. Knight-Commander Meredith should know what to do with you. You’re going to the Gallows, for sure.”

“Cullen, there are no Circles. There have been no Circles for over a year now. The one in Kirkwall imploded, and the mages petitioned for their freedom. They were granted it. No more Circles. Not anymore.”

“Liar!”

His hand tightened again, and Aurum knew better than to struggle. Her world went hazy around the edges, bleeding into grey frighteningly fast. She arched against him, throwing her head back, trying to force another breath into her lungs. His hand slipped down her neck just far enough for her to gasp for air. The rush of oxygen made her dizzy with relief and she nearly moaned at the pleasure of being able to breathe. She had to talk fast. Her words came out in a tumble, spilling out of her mouth.

“Never lie. Not to you. Not yet. We’re in Skyhold. I’m Aurum. I’m not a Circle mage. You know this. I took you to the museums. My favorite color is green – but it’s the enamel green from-”

“From the armor from the old elvhen…”

“Yes! _Yes_ , that’s right Cullen. And you told me that-”

“The old lion helm was something I would have worn.”

“Yes. And I made fun of you-”

“Because of course I would want to wear that - it was red and gold.”

“Mmmmhm.”

He took his hand off her throat, and after another long moment, released his grip on her wrists. Aurum did not move right away, the adrenaline surging through her body making her tremble in her stillness. A wrong move could be disastrous. She was only still because she wanted to make sure he was well. If he was a serious threat to her, she would have no real choice but to fight him off of her, and she desperately did not want to harm him.

“Aurum?”

“Hey there, emma mi,” she hummed softly, watching Cullen carefully.

He blinked, and in the dim lighting, Aurum watched his pupils expand out of pinprick-tight. He blinked again, his eyes focusing on her. Aurum stayed still, waiting for him to indicate that he was truly out of the Fade, and back in the realm of reality. She breathed through her nose, trying to clear her throat without making it obvious that that was what she was doing. She had to maintain the illusion of everything being alright for just a little bit longer so that Cullen could better put himself back in the present.

“Oh – oh _Maker’s balls_ , oh god, Aurum did I hurt you?”

Cullen scrambled off of her, fisting his hair in his hands, looking at her with panic in his eyes. He stood at the foot of his bed, staring at her like she was some manner of demon or spirit come to haunt him in truth.

“I didn’t – I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t trying to, _gods_ did I do that to your neck? Oh fuck, I didn’t – I wasn’t trying – it wasn’t on purpose!”

“Cullen, Cullen, please. Calm down. I’m fine,” she said, sitting up in the bed and reaching out for him. Her voice was roughened from the choke, raspy and gruff when it was not usually.

“No you’re _not!_ Can’t you feel the bruises I left! I could have killed you, dammit!”

“Cullen, calm down. It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me, you didn’t kill me. I’m fine. If I was in real danger, I would have defended myself. You were having a bad dream, I understand, it’s alright.”

Cullen made a sound of frustration and anger and backed further away from the bed, pressing himself into a corner and still railing against her, shouting loud enough to make the nearest neighbor bang on the wall that separated their two rooms. He quieted at that, fuming in the corner, refusing to look at Aurum at all, even as she slid out of his bed and started walking towards him.

“Cullen, please look at me. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Your voice is different. I _choked_ you, Aurum. I could have killed you!”

“You didn’t. You stopped. I am fine. Just a little bruised up, nothing too bad.”

She reached out and touched him gently, barely touching her fingers to his flesh. He jumped away from her like she had burned him with magic, clutching his arms and wilting away from her. Cullen could not bring himself to look at her, shrinking into the wall. Aurum withdrew, stepping away from him, her mouth drawn down into a frown. Slowly, she crawled back into his bed, pulling the covers back, and patting the place next to her.

“Cullen, please. Come here. Lay down.”

For a long few minutes, Cullen remained where he was, pressed into the corner, looking at Aurum as if she was a dangerous snake. Aurum tried to think what she could do to help, but nothing in her training had really prepared herself for dealing with half-naked-lover-but-not-Templars.

“Cullen. Come here. You need your sleep.”

He sighed, hiding his face in his hands.

“Aurum, _please_. I can’t-”

“Come here, please. It is okay. I would like it if you would come here, please.”

He obliged her almost immediately this time, walking stiffly to the bed and climbing in. Somewhere else in the apartment, her phone started ringing, and Aurum ignored it. Cullen sat up quickly, and Aurum pushed him back down insistently.

“It’s not important, just Dorian. He knows where I am, it is all fine. Lay down, Cullen. Relax.”

“Aurum, really, you don’t need to – I can – I can handle-”

She ‘tsk’d at him, and pulled the blankets of his bed up over them both, curling into Cullen’s side affectionately. He froze up again, stiff against her body. Apologies spilled out of his mouth like water from a broken faucet, only stopping when Aurum turned his head towards hers and kissed him gently. Cullen licked his lips when she pulled away, and tried to apologize again, only to have Aurum once again press her lips against his. He made a questioning sound, and she answered with a hum, gently wrapping her arm around him and pulling herself close to him.

“Go to sleep, Cullen. I am fine.”

“The bruises-”

“I can heal them, now sleep. I’m safe, and you are safe. It is fine. We can talk about it in the morning.”

He opened his mouth to object again, to bring up the fact that he had felt how her heart’s beat had pounded frantically beneath his hand, how she had arched and gasped to try and get just one more breath of air, how he had tasted her fear and –

She kissed him again, fiercely this time, holding his face steady. Aurum kissed him until his breath was gone and he could not form a single word of objection. He could only pant, leaning up to capture her own lips with a kiss when she drew away. Cullen pulled her close, holding her against his chest, trapped in a kiss she did not want to escape from, anyway. They kissed, holding onto each other as assurance that the other was, in fact, actually alright.

When they were finally comfortable with the idea that the other was not going to succumb to fear or pain, sleep came swiftly, stealing them into the Fade of pleasant dreams and comfort.

They did not, in fact, talk about it in the morning. Cullen made breakfast, bringing it to Aurum before she could even get out of bed, and pressed a kiss into her hair with another whispered apology. She healed the bruises on her neck as soon as she saw herself in the mirror, and Cullen breathed easier as soon as they were gone, hesitantly running his fingers across her throat when she let him inspect where the marks had been.

“If you try and apologize, I’ll set something on fire, Cullen,” Aurum mumbled, trying to pre-empt another unneeded apology.

He surprised her by gently cradling her neck with one hand and dipping his head down to kiss where his fingers had once left nearly black bruises. Aurum hummed happily, allowing the display of affection, tilting her head away to afford him more room. Cullen took it greedily, backing her up against the nearest wall and turning his kisses into hot, open-mouthed bites up and down the entirety of her neck. His reward was a shocked, half-bitten-back moan and the roll of Aurum’s hips against his own. He did not stop the assault until there was a whole new pattern of bruises up and down the pale flesh between his teeth.

Aurum shivered when he withdrew, trying to bite down on the very traitorous words that bubbled at the back of her throat. She managed only by biting her bottom lip until she was afraid she was going to bite through it, and turning her head away from him.

“Can’t have you walking away without the hickies, can I?” he whispered huskily into her ear.

Her tremble went blessedly uncommented on, though she was certain he had seen it. There, now there were two things that they didn’t want to talk about, one for each of them. Excellent, it was fair all around.

Aurum dressed herself in her own clothing as fast as she could, checking her phone for the dozens of messages Dorian had left, wondering why she was still at Cullen’s apartment, and then, more worryingly – an invitation. She read that text a good few times, holding very still as she tried to think of how she could broach this particular topic with Cullen. After the night they just had, and the morning wake-up that still had her neck tingling, Aurum was at a loss on how to bring this up with him.


	3. Chapter 3

“So I want to make sure I have this right. In order to make sure that you break the two of them up before the Ball, you’re taking us all on a…camping trip.”

“I don’t know why you sound so confused. It’s very simple.”

“You’re going to go camping.”

“Yes.”

“ _You_ are going camping. On the Storm Coast. For an entire three-day weekend. To break up Aurum and Cullen.”

Dorian sighed and looked to Bull, who was still naked and still in his bed, covered in the very nice sheets the two of them had been able to enjoy more and more often now that Aurum was out of the house longer than she was in it. Bull stared back, not understanding where the plan was actually going.

“I am perfectly capable of camping for three days, if _that’s_ what you’re worried about,” Dorian snapped irritably.

“Well it certainly is part of the problem I see, yes. The other part being that you’re trying to break up the two of them.”

“I certainly can’t let her stay with that ex-Templar, now can I?”

“I don’t think they’re actually together, Dorian. I think they’re messing with you.”

“ _What?!_ ”

* * *

 

“Dorian and Bull…have invited us on a camping trip, which means it’s not really optional. Three days at the Storm Coast.”

“Wait, what.”

“Yeah.”

“Just the four of us?”

“Yeah.”

“Three days?”

“Yeah.”

“The _Storm Coast?_ ”

“Yeah, I’m just as mystified as you. Dorian is playing at something, I’m certain. That man hates the merest idea of the Storm Coast. I think the only place he hates more is the Fallow Mire, and _everyone_ hates the Mire.”

Cullen made a sound of disgust beneath his breath.

“I agree, entirely. What are we going to do?”

“Well we have to go.”

“Yes.”

“Then we go, and we fake it, right? We’ve managed to do so far.”

“Ye-es.”

Aurum winced at the way she stuttered, but Cullen called no attention to it. They were still enveloped in the hazy ‘let’s not talk about things that sound off, or weird because then we have to talk about the OTHER weird things and no one wants that’ mode from what had happened mere hours before. There was no way for her to explain the way her stomach dropped to Cullen. Not right now – not when everything was still so fresh (and her neck still ached almost as much as…other places did), not yet.

So she settled on giving Cullen a wan smile and collecting her things to get ready to leave. She did not leave much at Cullen’s apartment, mostly because she did not like buying replacements for items she already owned, so her toothbrush was in constant transit, as was her most favorite of combs.

She made it all the way to the door, and was ready to step through when Cullen cleared his throat from behind her.

“Ah, Aurum. Thank you. For last night. I…I didn’t mean to startle you. Or scare you. I haven’t had…it hasn’t been that bad for a long while.”

He did not look at her, apparently content to speak at her knees. Aurum smiled, regardless.

“Any time, Cullen. It’s no bother. I just want to make sure you are not hurting, is all. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, alright?”

Cullen looked up at her sharply, his golden eyes striking her with an intensity she had not yet beheld. Maybe because she had been very consumed with not looking at him in all the moments when she could have otherwise seen it, maybe because he had concerned himself with never using that particular look directly at her before, but it did not matter anymore. Aurum saw his golden eyes, burning with an inner passion that honestly made her knees go a little weak, and there was no mistaking that they were directed solely at her.

“Thank you, Aurum,” he said, and Aurum did not _run away_ after that, but she certainly walked very fast back to her motorcycle, shaking her head to try and dislodge the pyrographed image of Cullen’s gold eyes from her mind.

“ _Shit_ ,” she cursed under her breath, looking back up to where Cullen’s apartment was, one of her hands pressed to her chest.

Her heartbeat thundered there, and she was entirely unsure what caused it, but she was very certain it forebode something intrinsic to her not-relationship with Cullen changing. She was going to have to talk with him before they went on the trip.

* * *

As it turned out, she didn’t talk to him before the trip. Every time they saw each other, either on a public date to irritate Dorian, or in private, as they tried to maintain their ‘relationship’, the words would come, and then she would swallow them down. It was never the right time, never the appropriate moment to talk about something like…that. There was always something better to say instead, something nicer, something not so totally vital to her self-hood.

The panic did not really hit her until the moment she was throwing her bag for the weekend into the back of Bull’s pickup truck. She had her tent, and a few vital things in the bag. Food and drinks were already handled, packed the night before into the cooler that was taking up most of the truck bed-space. Cullen was chatting amicably with Bull, and Dorian was doing his absolute best not to sneer. An uncommon feeling of nervousness had settled in her stomach, and Aurum did her absolute best to ignore it. She ignored it quite well on the long, _long_ drive to the Storm Coast, and ignored it even better as they drove out into the wilderness,

Bull’s truck bucked and heaved as he carelessly drove over boulders and downed trees. In the back seat, Cullen and Aurum held on for dear life, and in the front, Dorian spat Tevene angrily at every over-hard jostle. Aurum just braced herself and whispered Dalish prayers under her breath, trying not to offend anyone with them, but still desperately invoking Mythal to protect her from the Qunari’s horrible driving.

Bull finally spun the car and announced they were “Here!”, as if there was any actual ‘here’ to where they were. It was raining, pouring, actually, and they were at the base of a rocky cliff. Aurum looked outside, taking stock of where they were, and immediately did not like it.

“Bull, this isn’t a safe place to camp. With all the rain, it could flashflood through here and we’d all be in the ocean before we knew what was happening. We need some higher ground than this. We’ll have to hike up. Hope you don’t like this truck, by the way. If this whole place washes out, it’s ending up buried in the beach.”

“Well why don’t you go scouting for someplace better then, Aurum?”

“Just because I’m Dalish – you know what, _fine_. I will. I’m taking my bag and my tent with me and I’m setting up camp where it’s best. You assholes should be fine down here in the drowning place.”

Aurum sneered and exited the truck, walking around to the back to lift the tarp protecting their belongings from the wet, the mud, and Bull’s horrible driving. She slung her bag over her shoulder and quickly tied the tent-bag to the bottom of the pack before strapping it on and striking out. Cullen made a move to follow her out, but the door locked ominously as he reached for it, and Dorian turned around in the seat, staring intently.

“We need to talk, Cullen.”

* * *

 

The weather did not bother her. She had good shoes and a steady gait. The pack did not bother her, because it was not overly heavy. Hells, the only thing that was irritating her right then was that there was a pebble in her shoe that she couldn’t bend over and fish out just then. Finding a good place to camp was her priority and she took it very seriously.

Eventually, she found a place, about a half mile from where Bull’s truck was resting, up and away from anything that could make an unfortunate slide downhill, clear from most large rocks and obstructions that would make it hard to make a campsite for the three days. Satisfied, Aurum began the work of walking the site out, looking for any animal tracks that crossed through the area, any holes that suggested animals lived nearby, anything that could incite an animal attack or encounter they did not want.

She was far enough away that she did not fear for being ‘found out’ when she used her magic, so she summoned a barrier above her head to divert the rain away from her while she worked on setting up her own tent. Well, the tent she and Cullen would be sharing, since that was what was expected. It was, technically, a two-person tent, but it was small, and he was very tall. Whatever, they were faking a relationship, the worst that could happen was that they had to cuddle up for warmth.

Aurum was an efficient camper, and was nearly done pitching her own tent when she heard the approach of others. She dropped her barrier immediately, cursing floridly when she was suddenly drenched by all the rain she had been holding back. She had set up a tarp over the top of her tent, suspending it between two trees to keep the area over her tent as water-free as possible, so she was not horribly upset, but it was still a lot of water all at once. The rest of the group managed to hike up to where she was just as she finished pitching her tent and throwing her bag inside, out of the wet.

“So kind of you to join me, Dorian. Enjoy pitching your tent. Mine’s good.”

Her comment had been meant to be lighthearted, but it fell flat when she saw Cullen’s face. Something was wrong. She walked towards him, holding a hand out for him to take, and he grabbed onto it like he needed something solid to hold onto. He pulled her into a tight embrace and held onto her.

“Cullen, you’re shaking,” she whispered, holding him just as hard as he was holding her.

“It’s nothing. Please. Not now.”

Aurum’s stomach dropped and she held onto him tighter, pressing herself close to him, not minding the wetness that seeped into her clothing from his, or the water that dripped from his hair down her neck.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Yes, please. Can we go on a walk?”

Aurum nodded, and her concern was not at all feigned as she turned to Dorian and Bull to make an excuse for the two of them to go elsewhere. Dorian was smiling, and she did not like that smile in the slightest. Something had gone on while she had been looking for the site. She narrowed her eyes at her friend and mouthed something crass in Tevene at him before turning back to Cullen and striking out.

* * *

 

“So he told you I’m a mage?”

“Yeah, and made it seem as if you not knowing I was a Templar was going to be a problem. Said there was a lot of history between you and Templars.”

Aurum’s mouth twisted down into a frown. The barrier spell she had put up over the small cave kept the rain out, and afforded them some small respite from the wet. They were not huddled together, though Aurum did have a hand out to summon some small amount of fire to keep them warm.

“He’s not…wrong.”

“What else is there?”

“I…” Aurum took a deep breath. “I used to break into Circles to free the Dalish mages there. Sometimes Templars tried to stop me. Sometimes they...were persuaded to stop.”

She winced and withdrew away from him preemptively as she spoke. She really did not like talking about it. It was an uncomfortable part of her history. She had been young, reckless, and done things she should not have.

“Murder?” Cullen asked, his voice soft and lacking all manner of judgment.

“No! No, Creators no! I did not _murder_ them, I swear it on my bloodline, I would never murder them. I just. Did some less than savory magic sometimes. I was not going to let myself or the others be taken back to the Circle. We were Ghosts, but we never hurt people.”

“Oh. He made it seem much worse than that.”

“No crime was technically committed - since the Circles have been disbanded, and no one died. I stole phylacteries when I could, to make it more difficult for people to track the mages I freed. Occasionally that required ambushing Templars.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry you found out like this. I didn’t mean – I didn’t want to talk about it. I mean…I don’t know. I’m sorry, Cullen.”

Aurum did not shrink away from Cullen, but she did not exactly try and get closer to him either. She maintained the barrier and the fire, and waited for Cullen to speak.

“I…he said you had been part of the Ghost of the Circles – of Kirkwall. The ones that freed mages and broke their phylacteries.”

“I, uh. No. Yes, I was a Ghost, like I said, but…not in Kirkwall. I was scared. I could hear the red lyrium in the Gallows, even before I knew it was there, and I wanted to leave. I was there on First-business, not Ghost-business.”

“I was there. In Kirkwall, when it all blew up. I was Knight-Captain.”

“Really? You were the Knight-Captain under Meredith?”

“Yes. You can imagine, after that, why I did not want to stay in the Order. Meredith’s fear of mages caused everything wrong there and I didn’t…I couldn’t stop it. It was like Kinloch all over again.”

“Kinloch? Wasn’t that-”

“That was the circle that the Hero of Ferelden saved when it was overrun by abominations. I was there too. One of the only Templar survivors.”

“Oh.”

Her voice was small. Cullen did not say anything for a long while, and neither did she. They just sat in the damn cave, watching the rain hit her barrier. The silence was…silence. Aurum could not decide if it was a comfortable one or not.

“You were really one of the Ghosts?”

Cullen’s question caught her off-guard. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, confused as to why he was questioning that. She had already told him that she was one. There must be something more to the question than that.

“Yeah, I was. I…had a bit of a rebellious phase after I was named First and scampered off to free some mages. Kinloch was actually one of the first Circles I broke into, and the second one I broke out of. Kirkwall was an accident. I was trying to find someone…”

He laughed, a dry sound that had almost no real happiness to it.

“I see. It seems we’ve circled each other before, then. Always near, never quite touching.”

Aurum did not know what to make with that statement, and just looked at him, trying to decide if he was angry or not with the development and revelation of their pasts. It was painful for him, she knew. She had been a stupid young elvhen, consumed with thoughts of revenge and vengeance, and done some things she was not proud of. She had been mage and spy and infiltrator, escape artist and all that. It had been difficult work, of course it had been, and she would never undo what she had done – the mages always had deserved their freedom. She always would maintain that.

But…she had hurt people. Innocent people. People who were just doing their jobs. People who were not necessarily _wrong_ , some people who were good. Some were bad. Some were really bad. Some weren’t. She had hurt them all the same. That was not good.

“Aurum. Aurum, please look at me?”

She shook her head, trying to eliminate the thoughts that dogged her. She needed to pay attention to what he was saying.

“Sorry Cullen, what is it?”

“We should head back. I don’t want you exhausting yourself.”

“Barriers aren’t that hard. I’ve had a lot of practice. But if you want to go back, we can. Are you okay?”

“I…yes.”

Aurum sighed and stood. She did not like the surge of feeling in her chest, especially knowing that she had brushed so close to Cullen at all the wrong moments in his life, only to see him again once they were both wearing stupid t-shirts in a club.

“You sure?”

“I’m not happy with your friend, that’s certain.”

“Well join the club because he was being a _dick_. I’ll talk to him about it.”

Cullen snickered under his breath, and followed her out of the cave, pulling the hood of his slicker up to try and keep the water out of his eyes. Aurum left her own hood down, staring up at the sky, letting the ever-present rain wash down over her face. Her friend was trying to break them up. But why?

* * *

 

It was nearly nightfall by the time she and Cullen reentered camp. Dorian said nothing, wholly engrossed in his book, comfortably reading from beneath a barrier that kept both him and his book dry. Aurum narrowed her eyes at her friend, cocked her head to read the title of the book etched into its leather-bound spine, shrugged and flicked her fingers at him.

His barrier flickered and vanished, and Dorian yelped as the downpour suddenly crashed onto him. He stood quickly, trying to cover the book with his body, but slipped on a very fast-appearing patch of ice, and tumbled into a handy puddle, which started to freeze as soon as Dorian was in it. Cullen watched, smirking, as Aurum chased Dorian’s every move with a blast of ice. As a Templar, his training said he should be afraid of a mage flaunting their ability so casually.

As someone who was more than a little irritated at the person being harassed, it was _hilarious_. Dorian jumped to his feet, spluttering through mud and rain and ice, and Aurum smiled serenely at him.

“Did you feel like trying to cause any more trouble with me and my boyfriend, Dorian? Or do I need to start singing your hair off?”

“Maker, mercy!” Dorian cried. “If not for me, for the book!”

“Bull, take the book from Dorian. Put it in your guys’s tent, and stand back.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

Bull stripped the book from Dorian’s fingers, gave his boyfriend an apologetic kiss, and stepped back. Dorian made a scandalized noise, looking to Bull for backup that was just not going to come, and was very quickly distracted by Aurum flinging lightning at his face. His barrier barely went up in time to deflect the bolt wide.

“Aurum-”

“I really only want to hear an apology. How dare you do that? How _dare_ you?”

She kept her voice even, but sharp. She was angry, and rightfully so, but she was not going to let this escalate into a screaming match. Dorian was her best friend, but he had crossed a line. And he deserved to be made aware of that fact.

“Bull, are you aware that Dorian here is a mage who follows the fine art of the Mortalitasi?”

Dorian gasped, scandalized. He blocked her next bolt of lightning, redirecting it back around towards her.

“Aurum! That’s-”

“What, not my secret to tell? Odd, that. Bull, did you know that Dorian doesn’t like it when you-”

“ _Maker’s balls_ Aurum, shut up! I’m sorry, alright? Please, stop!”

She obliged, stilling her mouth but staring, pointedly at Dorian. For his own sake, he did look appropriately chastised averting his eyes from hers.

“Do not mettle in my relationship Dorian. I told you my secrets because you’re my friend, not to give you carte blanche permission to use them to try and drive my boyfriends away from me. Cullen and I have not even been dating that long, and you’re already acting like this? Shame on you.”

“Aurum, I am sorry. I did not…I was not thinking. I’m sorry as well, Cullen. I did not mean to distress you.”

Aurum huffed, and crossed her arms, staring down her nose at Dorian.

“Idiot,” she growled, throwing a barrier up over the campsite, diverting the water away from the group’s campground.

“I know.”

“Go talk with Bull. I’m going to be over here, talking with Cullen, and I would very much appreciate it if someone got me apology-elfroot as I worked on dinner.”

Dorian sighed, long and hard, but got up and with a long string of curses, got himself ready to go out to collect elfroot. Aurum watched him go, Bull trailing along behind, grunting questions at the thoroughly apologetic mage. She stood still, waiting until they were out of earshot, and then, out of view, before breaking down into hysterical laughter, doubling over and clutching her knees for support.

“ _Creators_ did you see that scuttle? Oh, his mother would have his hide if she saw him moving that ungracefully.”

Cullen did not laugh with her, because he thought that Dorian had moved very smoothly, especially for someone who had just been on his ass in a puddle. Besides, he was still trying to mull over everything Aurum had said. His silence went mostly unnoticed as Aurum began piling rocks in a circle to make a fire-pit. He helped, of course, grabbing some of the wood Bull had brought. They would have to cut more for the rest of the long weekend, but it was enough for them to start a fire.

“I can’t find the firestarter or kindling, Aurum. Do you know where Bull would have put it?”

“Cullen, there are two mages on this trip. We _are_ the fire starters. Just set the wood up like you normally would, and I will light it as soon as we’re ready.”

“Oh, right.”

“Emma mi, you are too much. Too much, sometimes,” Aurum said with a laugh.

She moved around the campsite, rearranging things and setting up tarps between the trees to afford them all some extra dry space without the use of magic. Cullen helped as best he could, relying on his long-off memories of childhood camping trips with his family, and Aurum directed him gently when he did something she deemed improper. He listened, of course. She had grown up in the Free Marches, in the landships of the Dalish. To her, the outdoors was as familiar as indoors. They were one and the same.

In short order, she had the fire lit and roaring cheerily, drainage ditches dug to divert water away from the camp, tarps up, tents organized, and everything prepared to make the next three days as lovely as possible on the Storm Coast. A brief trip back to Bull’s truck to grab all the kitchen supplies heralded the beginning of dinner preparations.

Aurum waved Cullen away as soon as she started cooking, insisting she could handle the food preparations and urging him to sit down and rest for a bit. He did no such thing, and instead rested his chin on her shoulder, wrapping both of his arms around her waist. She huffed, but accommodated his position as she went about her work, a small smile on her lips. When they heard Dorian and Bull coming back up the hill towards camp, Cullen pressed a quick kiss to her neck, and stepped away, almost as if they had been caught doing something they should not have been.

It was not Dorian who gave them a queer look for the movement, however. It was Bull, who furrowed his brow and looked quickly between Cullen and Aurum, his lone eye narrowing suspiciously. Aurum met his gaze and made a face at him for no reason other than she could. He cracked a grin at that, and pointed to the bundle of plants Dorian carried in his arms to draw Aurum’s attention to it.

“Dorian, that’s far too much! I only needed a little bit for dinner!”

“Well, I don’t want to have to get more after we smoke some of it tonight. We have three days here, and it’s all wet, so we might as well spend it pleasantly blitzed.”

Aurum rolled her eyes and held her hand out, still focused mostly on the preparation of the meal for tonight.

“I’ll just save it for later. Give it to me and I’ll portion it out for the next few days. The stew should last us the entire weekend, so if we keep everything measured out right, we’ll have a good series of meals, instead of a tragic accident.”

“Aurum, go sit down. I will make dinner. You’ve already set up camp, and so nicely. Let me do this, I need to apologize, anyway.”

Aurum frowned, but stepped away from the stew regardless. She suspected trickery, but the thought of sitting down and relaxing for a bit was actually nice. It had been a long day. Then again, as soon as she sat down, Dorian was calling her over – he had forgotten something in the truck and could she please go get it?

With only the absolute minimum amount of eye-rolling, Aurum agreed to go fetch the thing. It was something small, easily overlooked, and she retrieved it with a smile. Her friend was so silly sometimes. Even when she was still a little upset with him for what he had done, he was still her friend. The whole fiasco had actually been averted pretty easily. The fall of both rain and full darkness did not bother her. Her elvhen eyes glowed in the night, and by the time she returned, the food had already been portioned out and she accepted a trade – a bowl of stew in exchange for the small bauble Dorian had asked her to fetch.

She knew at the first bite Dorian had done something outrageously stupid to her food. He had added _all_ the elfroot to the stew. He stared at her as she ate, smirking confidently. She was too hungry to really throw it at his head like she wanted to. She ate, knowing what would come from eating an overdose of elfroot and not particularly caring.

“You are an asshole, Dorian. Did you at least make sure Cullen was okay with being drugged like this?”

“He suggested it, actually.”

Aurum turned to look at Cullen, who was laying out beneath one of the tarps, drawing patterns in the air. His bowl next to him was empty, and there was a small smile on his lips. She would eat her entire shoe if it turned out Cullen was not as high as a kite.

“Bull _shit_ he did.”

“I did, Auru _mmm_. I thought it would be good. Relationship-building,” Cullen slurred.

She shook her head and ate the rest of her stew. The high of elfroot consumption would come for her soon enough and she was, despite her previous objections, very pleased with the outcome of her evening. Dorian grinned from over the lip of his bowl. This would be exciting. Aurum could not lie when she was high. It was one of her quirks. Get her high or drunk and she couldn’t form a lie to save her life. If he had to get just as high as her for the weekend, so be it.

Besides, she genuinely enjoyed the affects of over-consumption of elfroot, as she had told him every time she made an over-large harvest from the elfroot plants on their porch. She would _also_ spend great amount of time extolling the virtues of wild-grown elfroot, and how it compared to the stuff she grew on her own.

Aurum sighed happily. Cullen watched as her eyes unfocused and she relaxed. When he held out his hand to her, she happily took it, lying down next to him and curling into his side with a happy sigh. There was silence for a good long while as everyone enjoyed the initial buzz-rush of the high hit them. It was a pleasant thing, an elfroot high. It had a tendency to wash away the worries of life, leaving the user blissfully unconcerned with most everything. Elves were particularly well known for enjoying the plant, but in the past few decades, it had caught on with the other races as well. Those that could dream would speak of comforting dreams of love and home and beauty, when and if they dreamt at all.

Curled into Cullen’s side, Aurum could think of nothing better.

“Wanna go skinny dipping? I think Bull and I found some hotsprings nearby.”

Dorian’s usual crisp language had lost all of its edge, slurring out around the edges like a cup too-full of wine. He was just as high as everyone else was, which made her happy. He had not abandoned Cullen and her to being high alone. Aurum looked up from where she had pillowed her head on Cullen’s shoulder, her eyes going wide. Dorian was draped artfully across Bull, sitting near their tent, giving her and Cullen a good enough distance to be polite. Even lit by the fire, her eyes glowed bright blue-green.

“That sounds _awesome_. Cullen, you wanna go?”

“Mnnh. No. I like being here.”

For emphasis, he curled a hand around her hip and pulled her closer to him. Aurum went with the movement, ending up in a half-sprawl atop him. Blinking slowly, she wiggled against his grip, only to find it tightening possessively.

“Stay.”

Aurum blushed scarlet, across her cheeks and ears, down her throat. Hells, she even felt her chest getting warm. That one simple word, growled up at her by a man who she, by all rights, should be her enemy, or at the very least someone she was still just _pretending_ to like, made her heart stutter and skip over itself. She stared down at him overlong, not responding because she couldn’t find the words she wanted. They were there, somewhere in her mind, she was certain. Aurum knew plenty of words. In multiple languages, even. Curse words, even!

She knew plenty of words. Phrases. Ways to express one’s feelings and emotions.

But Cullen was looking up at her, his golden eyes reflecting the firelight in ways that reminded her too much of sunsets on the water, of the sun caught in an eclipse, of citrine wrapped in gold, of…of something too precious to have ever existed before that very moment. She was afraid to look away, to lose whatever was in _this_ moment, out of fear of never seeing it again.

“Aurum, stay. Please.”

Not even his scar could distract her from his eyes right then. Her words could do not justice to what she felt when he asked her that, so she nodded, slowly, careful not to break eye contact with Cullen. He smiled, _smiled_ up at her, the skin around his eyes crinkling with the movement, and Aurum smiled back.

“You two should get in the tent soon. I don’t think Aurum can hold the barrier up for much longer, and that tarp isn’t going to keep all the rain off of you.”

Bull’s voice got Aurum’s attention, and she (regretfully, mournfully, painfully) tore her gaze from Cullen’s to pay attention to the massive Qunari. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to focus properly on Bull. But he wasn’t Cullen, and it was harder to want to actually sit there and stare at him. She blinked again. Bull pulled Dorian off his lap, to the Tevinter’s whimpered objections.

“Get in the tent with your boyfriend, Aurum.”

“But-”

“Your barrier is already leaking. Get in the tent, now.”

Bull’s tone brokered no objection, and with a grumble, Aurum moved to do as the lone sober person commanded, kicking her shoes off just outside the tent, and stripping off her wet layers. She clambered into the tent with a sigh, and made a grabby-hand gesture for Cullen as she fell into their sleeping area. He did not _scramble_ , per se, but he certainly got out of his wet outer layers and into the tent in a matter of moments, wrapping Aurum up in his arms and holding her close. He buried his nose in her smoke-scented hair and hummed happily. Bull rolled his lone eye and zipped the tent shut for them, since it did not appear as if either of them would want to move from where they were currently entwined.

The tent flap closed, and Aurum moved to sit up, comfortable now that that part of the charade was over, but Cullen held her close, arresting her movement. She struggled for her freedom, and it did not come, regardless. Cullen held her still, muttering something under his breath that she could not catch, even with her above-average hearing. She thought it could have been something from the Chant of Light, but she was not certain. Aurum was not very familiar with the Chant.

“Emma mi?” she mumbled into his neck. The Fade reached for her, a drugging soporific that urged her to sleep, and sleep different. The rainfall on their tent lulled her down into a pleasant near-sleep.

“Aurum, what does that mean?”

The explanation spilled out of her, pouring the words at her heart out all at once:

“My blade. Didn’t seem appropriate to call you vhenan, really but it fits too. _Ma_ vhenan, Ma sa’lath. Ma emma lath, emma mi, vhenan’ara.”

Her tongue curled around her milk-language, purring the words that she would never say if she was sober. She was not truly aware of what she was saying. Words decanted from her lips, dripping Dalish endearments, draping them over Cullen with the accompaniment of gentle touches, dragging them down his chest. Cullen rumbled a soft moan at the touches, arching his back to press himself up against her questioning fingers. The haze of sleep kept her from doing anything more than touching him, but Cullen made appreciative sounds, regardless.

He rubbed circles on her hip, soothing and repetitive, and Aurum sank down into sleep. Sometime during the night she was aware of Cullen pulling her into one of the sleeping bags and cuddled close to her, his body heat lulling her deep into the Fade. She went willingly into the dreams, embracing the Fade, embracing Cullen, and not thinking anything of either.

The morning came slowly. Rain still fell, obviously, and she was warm. Warm and happy and comfortable, and it did not even matter to her that she was still curled up with Cullen. His stubble felt odd against her face, but when she gently nuzzled his neck, her ear rasped against the bristly hairs and she shivered. Oh, it felt _nice_. Elvhen men rarely, if ever had facial hair, and she had really only ever been with other elvhen, so it was decidedly odd to feel anything on Cullen’s face, but Aurum could definitely grow to enjoy this.

Not that she was going to spend too much longer with Cullen. The Ball was soon. After that they could have a breakup and be done with it and she could rub Dorian’s face in the failed relationship he tried to foster.

But…

 _No_.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts that were dogging her. The movement only forced her ear into further contact with the stubble. She trembled again, desire uncurling in her blood. Aurum gasped when Cullen woke up just enough to turn his head to kiss her ear. She could feel his scar press against her skin and shuddered. He pulled her closer, hooking his legs around hers and twining his fingers into her messy hair. Aurum let herself fall back into the Fade, lulled by the rain.

By the rain and the slow, even way Cullen breathed, and the steady thump-thump of his heart, and the heat that wrapped around them both.

* * *

 

“Oh, good _morning_ , sleepyhead!”

“Shove it up your dick, Tevinter.”

The sun was nearly halfway to its zenith when Aurum finally disentangled herself from Cullen long enough to crawl out of the tent. She eschewed her shoes in favor of wandering around camp barefoot.

“You weren’t nearly active enough last night to require you sleeping that late, Aurum dearest. In fact, you and Cullen were almost chastely quiet. Didn’t want to-”

“Oh my _gods_ Dorian!”

“I mean, I can understand if he’s a little _shy_ , but I mean, with someone as beautiful as yourself cuddled up next to him and all malleable, I think he would manage to overcome it.”

Aurum covered her face with both of her hands and made a high-pitched groaning sound of exasperation. Dorian chuckled, enjoying making his friend squirm. Bull’s suggestion rang in Dorian’s ear, constantly reminding Dorian that his boyfriend did not think these two assholes were actually together. The thought consumed him. Would she really fake something with someone she did not like, just to annoy him? She would, he knew that. But was she?

“Unless the two of you _aren’t_ actually fucking?”

“Maybe I just don’t like an audience when I fuck, Dorian. Maybe I can control myself,” she snapped.

“Shut up and eat breakfast, Aurum.”

There was more elfroot in the porridge Dorian had made for breakfast. Cleverly disguised with some cinnamon, mind you, but Aurum could taste it anyway, she just did not know how much was there. She sighed, shook her head, and ate it anyway. The high was worth dealing with a smug Tevinter Mortalitasi smirking at her over his morning cuppa tea. Of course she knew the game Dorian was playing at now. He wanted her high, or drunk, or sleep-deprived so he could question her. It was an inelegant game, one that both sides knew the other was playing, but it was a game, nonetheless.

He wanted her to be in a situation where she would tell the ‘truth’, where he could question her with impunity and get the answers he wanted.

She wanted to avoid the questions, evade and get through the next two days without giving up anything she did not want to talk about.

Dorian stared her down, and she met his gaze, challenging him to try and call her out on not answering his questions. She might be bubbling on an elfroot high, but Aurum was whip-smart and careful with her words if she wasn’t being tongue-tied by someone tall, blonde and ravishingly handsome. Speaking of –

There was a rustling from the tent behind her, and Cullen carefully climbed out, stepping into his shoes delicately and adjusting his rumpled clothes. His hair was a curling mess, and with a soft sigh, Aurum turned to run her fingers through it, trying to help it lay flat, and when she realized it was a futile effort without a brush and a half an hour, she turned to mussing it up. Cullen cried out, reaching up to bat her hands away, catching her by the wrists when she made it obvious that she was not going to stop her assault immediately.

Aurum giggled and leaned in to steal a kiss from him. Cullen growled playfully at her when she freed her wrists from his grasp and danced away from him, her bare feet leaving dew-drop prints across the grass.

“Have some breakfast, Cullen,” Dorian suggested, his tone faux-bored.

“He put a lot of elfroot in it. He wants to talk about our relationship. Ask _questions_.”

Aurum could not help how her voice lilted. It was hard to disguise her Dalish accent when she got a little higher than normal, and the propensity for softened consonants made her speech sibilant and soft.

“I see. What sort of questions?”

“Nothing too invasive, I promise. I just haven’t seen my best friend in so long.”

“Your worry doesn’t really seem to keep you from fuckin’ Bull all over our damn apartment. Didja think I wouldn’t notice the mess you made in my room?”

Dorian ‘hmmf’d under his breath and turned back to his book. It had somehow managed to dry over the night, but Aurum was pretty certain he had had a second copy of it squirreled away somewhere. It was, after all, his favorite ‘awful’ book series by esteemed author Varric Tethras. The dwarf actually had come by the bookstore to sign a few copies before, and while Aurum had had a wonderful conversation about the author’s books with him, Dorian had skulked in the background, too ashamed to ask for an autograph.

Aurum had pretended not to notice that one of the books stocked in the store went missing afterwards.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice that your hickies have never ventured anywhere further down your body? They’ve only ever been in places easily accessible from over the top of a shirt.”

Okay, maybe Bull had made that observation, not Dorian, but it did not much matter. It had the appropriate affect. Aurum’s eyes widened, and Cullen coughed and looked away uncomfortably.

“Or maybe that you’ve not been taking birthbane lately, so unless you’re trying for a child…”

Aurum snorted, and Cullen blushed violently.

“Dorian, you have no idea what I do or do not dose myself with. There’s more than just birthbane to keep me from getting pregnant. If, in the future, our relationship is of the sort where we decide we’d like to have children, I will have that discussion with Cullen, not with you. Or should I talk to Bull about the, oh, what was it – ‘medicinal supplement’ to keep your d-”

“Don’t you dare, Aurum.”

“Then stop trying to pry into my medical history. Ass.”

Dorian waved her away, and without putting her shoes on, she reached out for Cullen’s hand and started off on a walking adventure. Cullen was quick to grab her jacket and sweep it over her shoulders. She smiled up at him, reaching up to affectionately scruff her fingers across his morning stubble, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Bull was coming up the hill as she and Cullen walked down it, and again, gave them the same odd look he had given them the day before. Aurum did not turn to watch him walk back to Dorian, knowing it could look suspicious. But Dorian, behind them, looked triumphant, while Bull, beside him, looked perturbed. Dorian thought he was uncovering evidence of a relationship faked for nothing more than amusement and embarrassment. And Bull rather thought he was starting to see a relationship that was indeed, just that.

* * *

 

They spent the morning together. Just the two of them, adventuring around the Storm Coast. Aurum walked without fear, even without her shoes, scaling the mountains and hills just as easily as Cullen did, not minding the mud on her feet or trailing up her pants. The wet did not bother her. She was too busy exploring, scrambling up boulders and helping Cullen up behind her, throwing barriers over their heads when the downpours became too much.

In silence, they watched animals track by. Deer and wolves, bears and still-wild mabari. They saw signs of a high dragon and with nervous laughter, retreated back to a small cave to wait and see if it was truly safe to be around. It was then when Aurum looked to Cullen through the haze of her retreating high, as he scanned the area around them for any further sight of a dragon, that her heart gave an uncommonly hard lurch.

The water had plastered his hair flat against his head, darkening it a few shades from its usual blond color. She was certain her hair had darkened as well, but that did not matter to her. Not really. Creators, no, all that she could see was the way the water slid down his skin, the intensity in his gaze, the way he had a hand blocking her from exiting, a small comfort, as it would not do anything against dragon’s fire, but…her heart trilled regardless.

He turned back to look at her and her breath caught in her throat.

She knew. She knew it was just her reaction to the elfroot that was making her see his eyes as twin pools of molten gold, spun through with ribbons of rubies and amber. She knew it was an overreaction, an over-poeticization, but it did not stop the thoughts. It did not stop her blush, or the urge that suddenly burned her to feel him closer. It did not stop the heat that scorched her blood, it did not dampen the tide of lust that rose in her – the knowledge was worthless because Aurum _saw_ him and she –

“Aurum, is everything okay? You look flushed. Do you need to go back to camp?”

She swallowed her first response. She pushed it deep down in her stomach and refused to think about the…the _anything_ other than finding an appropriate answer to his question.

“N-no. I’m just a bit cold, is all. The mud on my feet is a little chilled. Let’s see about finding that hot spring Dorian was talking about.”

Cullen sighed, and turned away (and Aurum definitely did not follow the water drop that slid from behind his ear down his neck with her eyes and definitely also did not want to follow its path with her tongue).

“Maker that sounds _wonderful._ ”

Aurum agreed and they began their hunt. She ignored the rising (always rising now) need in her chest and focused. If they got to the hot springs, if they even existed, she could strip out of the wet clothes and get warm and see Cullen’s back and torso again and, _Creators_ , he would be in there with her and she could really take her time to enjoy it. Him. It. Them.

 _FUCK_.

Her thoughts were spiraling out of control. Out of her control, at the very least, because they seemed to all be very focused on Cullen. Even through the layers he wore to keep the elemental fury of the Storm Coast at bay, she could see his muscle. The way he moved made her tremble and she passed it off as merely being cold. He of course stripped out of his outermost layer and draped the heavy jacket over her shoulders, fussing until she put it on properly and pulled the hood up over her ears.

It did not help.

Now she was surrounded by his _smell_ , and the weight of his clothing against her body only made her remember all the times it had not been his clothing that had weighed her down. She hid her face to disguise the blush that would not leave her cheeks.

Cullen, for his part, was not fairing much better. Aurum was so slender, so tiny in frame by comparison, and yet she was bounding ahead of him, scaling trees and boulders only to jump down mere moments later. She was a wild thing, a wildling encapsulated in a single form. Magic sparkled in the air around her, latent talent that he could feel her reach for without even realizing it.

She _was_ a mage, he reminded himself. They were part and parcel with the Fade itself sometimes, but the Circle mages never seemed so at ease with their magic, so willing to use it, to rely on it. What remained of his Templar abilities sang to him, and it was not the siren call of lyrium. It was not a song of entrapment or of danger, no. When her magic sang to him, sang to what remained after so long, it sang in joyous arias that buoyed him along in step, in time with her. They did not dance, they did not _dance_ , but she glided through the song with all the beauty and grace of the finest Orlesian-trained dancer.

Mud tracked across the bridge of her nose, and the two bulky jackets she wore stole all suggestion of curve from her thin frame, and her hair was a wild mess, and her pupils were wide with the elfroot high, but Cullen did not – _could not_ – remember a time someone had looked more beautiful. She sighed and looked over her shoulder at him, a blush high on her cheeks from exertion, her smile open and emotive and her eyes shining all shades of blue and deep purple. In that moment, not even his addiction of years past could rise to the surface.

No, when he looked in her eyes, he did not see lyrium. Not this time. No, the blue of her eyes, flashing through with the purple of wild-magic could not remind him of lyrium. Lyrium was not this beautiful, did not draw him in like her eyes did, did not make his heart clench in his chest like this. Lyrium did not make him want to drop everything to kiss her. Her eyes did, though. When she looked at him, everything fell away.

When she looked at him, her blue and purple eyes consumed any thought.

She gave him an odd look, confused by the starstruck expression had crossed his face, and Cullen shook her worry away with a hand.

“Just lost in thought, that’s all. Carry on.”

Aurum cocked her head to one side, considering Cullen’s words carefully. Something did not feel truthful in what he said, but it was not really her place to call attention to that. Besides, he had started to flush, the apples of his cheeks pink. She stepped towards him, reaching for his hand. He took her hand in his own, and both of them pretended that they didn’t feel how cold the other’s skin was. It was more important to have this physical connection between the two of them.

Hand in hand, they walked slowly through the wilderness of the Storm Coast, eventually making their way back to camp. Dorian was still reading, sitting serenely beneath a tarp, looking every bit as if he belonged in the pages of a fashion magazine instead of out in the ever-wet wilds of the Storm Coast. Bull was tending the fire, poking it ineffectively with a huge branch in lieu of actually doing anything effective, and looked up at them with the same confused look from earlier in the morning. Dorian pretended not to notice them, flipping the next page of his book overly loudly to make sure it was _obvious_ he was not noticing them and _very_ engrossed in his book.

Aurum rolled her eyes at the stupidity of it all and resisted the urge to force Dorian’s chair to tip over. She went about fixing the fire from Bull’s inelegant prodding, shirking the jacket Cullen had lent her, and then her own as well, leaving her in a damp t-shirt that clung desperately to her body. Cullen did nothing to disguise how he stared as she walked around the fire, her hands wrapped in mage-summoned flames. She reached into the hottest parts of the fire with her bare hands, not fearing that the true fire would harm her. Her magic protected her.

Cullen stared, wondering how it would feel if she wreathed her hands in lightning and ran them down his body. He wondered if she would be gentle with her magic if he asked her too, he wondered if she would let him hold her close and watch her magic dance across her fingers. Magic was reviled – his training had drilled that into him, society had drilled it into him. And yet…and yet he wanted to know more about it. Allure of the unknown, or deadly, or whatever it was, but watching her so casually handle something he had been told would kill anyone and anything made him wonder.

He watched the flames twist around her fingertips as she gestured backwards to Dorian for help, watched how she stood with no fear in fire, like the Goddess she did not believe in. Andraste had been consecrated and consumed, and Aurum merely consecrated. Holiness had not saved Andraste, nor had the Maker’s hand. Aurum saved herself.

Cullen shook his head again, not wanting to let his thoughts continue this track of reasoning. Aurum was his girlfriend falsely, only pretending for the sake of meting out justice to a meddlesome friend. He should not concern himself with the gentle dip of her throat, the curve of her jaw, the fine lines of her fingers. None of those things should be in his thoughts. But they were. They _were_ , and Maker preserve him, he relished them all.

Aurum looked up to him, smiling still, and as soon as she shook the magic off her hands (sending tongues of fire and dustings of ash flying), she reached for him.

“Sorry if the magic is a little jarring for you. I tend to use it a lot,” she mumbled apologetically as Cullen took her hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing her knuckles tenderly.

He could taste the magic still hovering in the air around her hands, and had to bite his tongue to keep from running it across the pulse point in her wrist. Aurum pulled her hands back towards herself, and Cullen stepped closer, an apology about to spill from his lips. She silenced the half-there words with a gentle kiss. Cullen sighed against her lips, and kissed her back, holding her hands in his own. The world fell away again, and it was only the two of them, standing near a fire, in the rain, on the Storm Coast, and the feel of his scar on her lips and the weight of her hands in his, and –

“A- _hem_ , there.”

They broke apart like the feel of the other’s skin suddenly burned them. Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, hemming and hawing over his words, while Aurum, with a blush still riding her cheekbones, turned to Dorian and flipped him off.

“Ahem you, asshole.”

“That doesn’t even make _sense._ ”

“You don’t even make sense.”

Dorian made a small sound of distressed disgust and went back to reading his book. Aurum threw herself dramatically to the ground in front of him, and busied herself with making a mud-city all around his feet, complete with small grass-blade people who would scream in chorus whenever he shifted his foot. She lay, uncaring of the mud or rain, and built an entire metropolis, complete with skyscrapers and a mockingly-gruff-voiced female narrator. Cullen watched, smiling broadly, as Aurum created dozens of little grass-people and placed them carefully in little mud houses and mud apartments and mud businesses with little mud cars and little mud stores. All the while, she spun a story, moving the little grass people hither and thither as the story dictated.

Cullen sat in the chair closest to the tent he and Aurum were sharing and watched her. She was so at ease making stupid scenes, and so utterly engrossed by it that she carried on for as long as it took for Dorian’s patience to unravel completely. It started with his foot tapping (“Earthquakes!” she cried, sending the grass people running and screaming), and then irritated finger flicking, and then it graduated to shuffling which leg was crossed over the other (squashing a building and causing only more screaming from the people). Dorian only grew more and more irritated as Aurum continued her world-building and storytelling, overriding every attempt of Dorian’s to actually read.

“Aurum could you maybe stop?”

“Aaaaaugh, words from on high! The Maker returns, Elgar’nan himself returned to smite us all! To steal our sun! Auuuuugh!”

Dorian sighed at length, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“The winds - they come! You can hear them, whistling over the mountains that bar in our fair city!”

“Aurum, come on now.”

He shifted, and his foot clipped the tallest building. It tipped, and fell and Aurum screeched, tearing new-dead grass people into pieces and throwing them in the air, letting their pieces fall down upon her like macabre confetti. She screamed in mock-terror as Dorian kicked another building over and squashed it beneath his heel. He kicked some of the mud up onto her with a chuckle, and with a squawk of surprise, Aurum rolled away from him.

Mud smeared across her body, and with a snarl, she rolled back through her town, grabbed Dorian’s ankles and violently rolled again, pulling him out of his chair. Dorian quickly tossed his book to Bull, who snatched it out of the air and gently put it back into the tent, before Aurum had him pinned facedown in the mud. That lasted for all of a moment before Dorian was scrambling to fight with her. She laughed and grabbed a handful of mud to smear into his hair.

He made a scandalized sound, grabbed his own handful of mud to throw at her, and the fight was on. They tussled back and forth, increasingly loud with their battle-cries.

“Cullen! Pin him down, I want to rub mud in his stupid moustache!”

The mud-form he only vaguely recognized as Aurum looked up to him with her request, holding a hand out. He was nothing, if not gallant, and after shirking his last few layers so he would not get all of his clothes covered in mud, he waded right into the fray.

It took mere moments for him to be covered in mud, and _Maker_ were bodies slippery in the mud, but he managed to find Dorian and pinned him down with a triumphant cry.

“Wrong person, asshole!”

Blue eyes stare up at him and he recognizes that the wrists he’s holding into the dirt are too slender to belong to the Tevinter and he let her go almost immediately. Faster than he would have thought possible, she sat up, cupped mud in her hand and whipped it at Dorian’s grinning face. The mudball hit the other mage squarely on the chin, and before Dorian could react, Aurum was up on the balls of her feet.

Her full-body lunge was animalistic, powerful enough to lift Dorian off his feet the moment she hit him. She pinned him down, effortlessly moving to straddle the mage and pull handfuls of mud and grass up from the ground to grind into his clothing, his neck and mouth. Dorian was spitting mad, fumbling to try and dislodge Aurum from on top of him, but even with the mud making traction hard to obtain, Aurums bare feet managed to dig in, and she had more than enough power in her body to hold him down, even as he flailed.

“Bull! Help!” Dorian called, arching away from the latest handful of mud in her hands.

“I think I can handle this, actually.”

Cullen’s voice came from right behind her, and in a stunning move of treachery, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her backwards, throwing her down into the mud.

“Oh, too good!” Dorian crowed as he took the advantage. Cullen held her down, and Dorian abandoned the mud in favor of wiggling his hands up under Aurum’s shirt and tickling her ribs mercilessly.

Aurum screeched, arching her back and trying to wriggle away almost immediately.

“Ah! Dorian, no! Nononono! Creators, mercy! Mercy, Dorian! C-cullen _help!_ ” she gasped out around hysteric peals of laughter.

She writhed, kicking ineffectively at Dorian, who evaded her weak strikes in favor of continuing his assault on her ribs. Cullen held her wrists above her head, careful to avoid a grip that could hurt her, or cause her pain, and just chuckled as Dorian continued his assault. It was only when Aurum was absolutely breathless and could not manage even the slightest attempt at a word that Dorian finally stopped and let her sit up. She spent long minutes catching her breath. Cullen moved to her side, rubbing her back to try and be soothing and supportive, and for a mere second, she allowed the gesture, and then she was turning and pouncing on him, grappling with him in much the same way she had done with Dorian.

“Fucker! You betrayed me!” she exclaimed in mostly jesting tones.

Unlike Dorian, however, Cullen had actual training in floor combat and Aurum ended up pinned flat on her back, Cullen holding her down with a single hand and the weight of his hips against hers. Aurum blinked away her surprise and kicked one of her legs in irritation.

“Cullen, let me up,” Aurum pouted, letting her lower lip wobble pitifully.

“That’s not going to work on me, Aurum.”

She sighed, and the pout vanished. In what would have otherwise been an explosive burst of movement, Aurum struggled against his pin, kicking her legs, arching her hips and twisting all at the same time, but Cullen was unmoved. He had pinned her, and she was going to stay pinned.

“Emma mi, pleeeeeaase let me up?” she whined.

“Mmmm, no.”

“ _Vhenan_ , please?”

“Nnnnno.”

“Culleeeeeeeeeeen.”

“Auruuuuuuuuuuuum,” he mimicked, his voice rising at the culmination of her name.

The pout came back and she sighed at length, trying to hide her mud-covered face in her arm. She sniffled pitifully, and then snuck a peek at Cullen to see if he was going to show any mercy on her. He caught her gaze and shook his head, and Aurum went immediately back to sniffling and boo-hooing. Cullen sighed, and, keeping both of her wrists trapped in his hand, stood, lifting Aurum to her feet. She petulantly pouted and stamped her foot, pulling her hands away from Cullen’s grasp.

To her surprise, he actually let her go.

Only to, moments later, reach forward, grab her around her waist, and sling her up and over his shoulder. Aurum squeaked in surprise, kicking her legs ineffectively. Cullen held her steady, letting her flail as much as she wanted, and only laughing when she started cursing at him, beating her fists against his back as she tried to kick herself free.

“Dorian, you said something about hot springs, yes? Where are they? Seems my girlfriend is horrendously dirty and I’d like to throw her into them before letting her back into my clean tent.”

“That’s _my_ tent, you asshole!”

He shrugged almost hard enough to send her spilling off his shoulder and Aurum scrabbled at his back to maintain her balance. Dorian smiled and did his best to brush some of the mud out of his hair before responding.

“It’s this way. I’ll show you both. Goodness knows I need to wash up as well. Thanks for that, Aurum.”

The elf snarled something in Dalish, and then followed with a _very_ vehement “Venhedis!” when Cullen did not put her down, and instead shifted her higher up on his shoulder and gestured for Dorian to lead on. Dorian looked back to Bull, and asked his boyfriend to kindly bring them all clean clothes in a few minutes. Bull grunted, and rolled his good eye. Aurum flipped him off too, for good measure. No one was going to escape her anger. She was being _carried_ like a fucking sack of _potatoes_ through the goddamned _Storm Coast_.

Aurum screeched and made all sorts of wounded-animal noises all the way from camp to the springs, kicking and cursing and whining and pleading to be let down whenever she tired of the first tactic. No one paid her any mind. Cullen and Dorian shared a rather lovely conversation about the exact consistency of the mud on her pantsleg, and then had a laugh about her complaining.

Aurum cursed them all at great length, doing her best to make sure that even when she spoke Dalish they had no doubt just what she was suggesting their mothers got up to before their fathers were even around. So consumed with her verbal diarrhea, she completely missed Cullen ducking into the small cave, and Dorian pointing to the closest of the two steaming pools.

She did, however, notice when Cullen threw her into the water without any sort of warning. The sudden change from being cold to being almost too hot had her thrashing to get her feet under her.

Aurum broke the surface of the water with a very loud “Fuck!”

The water wave she magicked up over her head did not make the mud sticking to her body disappear immediately, but when Cullen looked back over his shoulder for Dorian, the other mage had vanished. He had time enough to sigh and resign himself to his fate before the hot water splashed over him. The wave subsided, and Cullen looked down, only to be hit in the face with a mud-covered shirt. He heard her giggle, and stripped the shirt away from his eyes.

Aurum was nose-deep in the spring, blowing bubbles happily. She wiggled her hips, and before Cullen could really process what she was doing her jeans were off and whipping towards him as well. He dodged the pants, but stared anyway. She was not really going to –

Her bra joined the growing pile of flung clothing, and moments later, her panties did too. Her underwear, Cullen corrected. He was not going to think about panties. Or calling her underwear panties or about how they were green again and how that reminded him of the green ones she had worn that first night. Nervously, he licked his lips. Blessedly, the cave that housed the spring was dark, and he was spared the sight of her naked body moving under the water, though he definitely was _very_ aware of that.

Aurum was not so lucky. Her eyes were so very good at seeing in low light that when Cullen started stripping out of his clothing, she could see the outline of Creators-damned muscle on his torso. He undressed as quickly as possible and rushed into the water. She didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed or whatever else it could be, but Aurum still could not look away.

Now all that muscle was exposed and wet and definitely within touching distance.

Creators be good to her, this was not helpful at all. He was scrubbing mud off his very bare very there skin and she was just sitting still. Watching him. Like some creepy thing. Aurum shook her head and went back to trying to work all the mud out of her hair. Of course she had known she was going to end up bathing sometime during this weekend, especially after she had thrown herself at Dorian’s feet to be obnoxious but…

But the dim light glittered on the water and slid across Cullen’s form and she had to constantly remember to breathe. Breathe. _Breathe_.

“Aurum? Are you alright? You look…flushed.”

If she had not been blushing already, she was **now**.

“I, uh – I…I um, I just…it’s hot, that’s all.”

“M- _hm_ ,” Cullen hummed as he went about his own business.

Aurum turned away, intent upon not looking at him anymore. Because her heart was doing stupid little somersaults in her chest, and she was furious that he had caught her staring. That was more irritating than she could imagine it being otherwise, and she scrubbed harshly at her skin until it was flushed not from her embarrassment and arousal, but from the rough scrub she was giving herself. This was all stupid of her. Cullen was-

“Come here, you.”

Wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her back into the shallower water, Cullen pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, then pressed his advantageous position, cupping her hip in his hand and kissing her ear gently. Aurum bit her lip to keep her traitorous tongue still, but she still whimpered when she felt his teeth nip at her earlobe.

“I see the two of you are enjoying the springs. No, no, don’t move for my sake. Carry on. I just wanted to let you know Bull brought some clothes for you to change into. Goodness knows why you two decided to bring these shirts, but he did.”

Dorian’s voice was an unwelcome intrusion, but Aurum was not much in any place to tell him to fuck off. Cullen only ‘mhm’d’ at the other mage, still focused on idly kissing up and down Aurum’s neck. Aurum managed a half-hearted “Thank you” at Dorian, who merely sniffed and walked away.

“Couldn’t let him come in without seeing something, right?” Cullen whispered into her ear. Aurum trembled helplessly against the sensation. If she did not know better, she would have accused Cullen of intentionally trying to rile her up.

“Right. Can I get back to washing myself?”

She tried to be gruff and stern, but her voice warbled and came out breathy. Cullen chuckled behind her back, and Aurum was glad for the darkness. With her back to him, he couldn’t see the ferociously hot blush that had apparently taken up permanent residence on her skin. She heard, with astounding clarity, Cullen get up out of the hotspring. Aurum congratulated herself on not turning until she was certain she heard him put on some pants at the very least.

Then again, when she did end up turning, Cullen was still toweling off, his jeans unbuttoned and half-zipped, and she bit her cheek until she tasted blood. She could not say what she wanted to say because it was completely inappropriate for the relationship they had. Her eyes tracked a droplet of water as it slid down Cullen’s chest and reflexively, she licked her lips. He turned and bent to pick up the t-shirt Bull had brought for him, and her eyes dipped to his ass.

Creators bless that ass.

“Aurum! Hey, pay attention.”

She shook her head and looked back up to Cullen, who was frowning at the shirt.

“Where the fuck did he get this from?”

He turned the shirt around so Aurum could see it. Her mouth went dry.

It was the shirt he had been wearing the first night they met. Bright orange arrows pointing to his shoulders, the words “Leg Rests” emblazoned across his chest. _That_ night, she had thought it was stupid, but right then, Aurum found it to be a pretty compelling thought. Her legs up over his shoulders, his mouth and fingers diligently working at her cunt, him consumed with nothing more than giving her pleasure. It was the ultimate in selfishness to want something like that, but that did not stop Aurum from wanting it.

Dorian was playing a dangerous game. Because she knew he would have orchestrated this. It was the only reason for that shirt to be here. How he got it, she didn’t know. It did not matter. He was definitely fucking with her, and Aurum did not entirely know why.

Even if he did know they were faking, and Aurum at this point was pretty certain he did, what the fuck did Dorian gain by orchestrating this sort of bullshit?

“I don’t know…” she finally offered to Cullen, who looked at the shirt with abject disgust.

“I don’t want to put this on.”

“I wouldn’t object if you didn’t.”

He huffed at her, but didn’t put the shirt on. She saw the smile on his lips though.

“You’ll keep me dry and safe on the way back to camp, then?”

“Safe, yes. Dry, perhaps not. You looks so very good wet.”

It was Cullen’s turn to stammer, blush, and turn away. Aurum needed to turn the tables back in her favor, needed to feel like she was not mindlessly losing herself to an attraction that was not reciprocated. She had the need to turn this all back on him, and she needed to do it soon before she just wantonly threw herself at him.

Aurum looked Cullen straight in the eye, challenging him with a direct stare that he met evenly. Or at least, he did until Aurum rose up out of the water like a nymph. Water sloughed off of her body, and just in case there was not enough light for him to see her, she summoned tongues of fire to dance atop the spring’s surface. She was moderately certain she heard him swear at length beneath his breath as she stepped up out of the baths.

Her body, slick with water, and highlighted by fire, was on complete and total display. For the first time, Cullen saw her fully naked all at once. He swallowed the next word in his mouth and remembered himself. He should not be staring at the shapely curve of her thigh, the jut of her hipbones against her skin, the taut muscles of her abdomen, the fullness of her breasts, definitely not the fullness of her breasts, definitely not that, definitely not, but _Andraste’s tits_ , Aurum’s tits were fantastic.

“Cullen, can you hand me my clothes, please?” she asked sweetly, gesturing to the pile. She could already see the glittering rhinestones of the shirt _she_ had been made to wear to the club, and she was not going to wear it.

“And your shirt. I’ll wear that, instead.”

Cullen thrust the shirt at her. She smiled at him, and with a brief flash of magic, dried herself. She slipped the shirt on without bothering with a bra (Bull didn’t bring one, anyway), and then held her hand out for the clothes Cullen was holding. With a tremble he passed them over to Aurum.

Still smiling, Aurum dressed herself. There. Even playing field, if the pronounced bulge in Cullen’s pants (that she definitely was not going to think about any more) was any indication.

“Shall we head back to camp?”

Cullen grunted, and pulled her close to him, rocking his hips up against her for just the barest moment. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, trying to calm himself while still holding her tight to him.

“Are you two quite finished, then?”

Dorian broke into the conversation again, and Cullen stepped away from her quickly. Dorian’s eyes drifted lecherously down Cullen’s body, lingering overlong on his still-unbuttoned jeans. Cullen straightened and quickly rectified that particular happenstance. Dorian pouted, and when he turned to Aurum, she was pouting too.

“Now you just made it harder to take off again, Cullen!” she whined, pulling at his beltloops.

He batted her hands away and she giggled. Cullen just rolled his eyes at her and smiled. Dorian grunted in disgust and urged them along, out of the hotspring cave, back into the chill air of the Storm Coast.


	4. Chapter 4

The long walk back to the campsite was made longer by Dorian and Aurum constantly going back and forth with raunchy limericks. Dorian started it, egging Aurum into playing along by reciting some pretty nasty things about the Dalish and humans getting together. She fired back with a nasty two-liner about Tevinter men and their proclivity towards orgies involving all sorts of nastiness. Dorian laughed, did not deny the accusation, and returned with another ditty about humans.

And so it went, back and forth and back and forth, with Cullen making increasingly distressed sounds under his breath as their competition gained fervor. The jokes, everything they were doing and the fact that Aurum was wearing his stupid shirt with nothing on underneath it. He did not have to deal with that shirt being wet, thank the Maker, but she was _obviously_ not wearing anything underneath his shirt again. The neck gaped open, exposing her neck and all the marks that were still there.

Cullen grit his teeth and tried to make them move faster, but if he drew too far away from them, they would not extend the barrier spells to keep him dry. So he was stuck, walking along at their leisurely pace, listening to them exchange stories now. Elvhen lovers were apparently very flexible. That much, the both of them agreed upon, after talking at length about their respective previous lovers and how they had done things.

All while Aurum was wearing his shirt. That shirt. _The_ shirt.

He bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to remain quiet as Aurum started to go on, at great length and detail, about her previous lover had been able to do some sort of acrobatic feat while fucking her that Cullen tried to follow and visualize, but found that he couldn’t because he kept trying to imagine himself in the place of the faceless elvhen lover Aurum was talking about and he was not entirely certain his back could bend like that.

Maybe if he tried some of that stretching-exercising that some of the others had suggested, he could get to the point where he could do that. It sounded fun, anyway. It sounded like it would be quite fun to have Aurum drape herself over him like that while they –

“Cullen?”                                    

Aurum’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and Cullen blushed fiercely as he realized just what he had been ~~fantasizing~~ thinking about. Him and Aurum, entangled amorously, duplicating something she had done with a previous lover, just to see if they could manage it. He looked at her, waiting for her to question what he had been thinking of and why, but she merely gestured to the tent they shared.

“You can go put a shirt on now. Not that I don’t like seeing you topless and all, but I’m sure it’s cold.”

He nodded dumbly, unable to formulate a response, and he was very glad she did not ask for one. Maker what had he gotten himself _into_?

* * *

 

Much later that night, after Aurum and Dorian had gotten into another dirty-ditty competition, with Bull chiming in every so often on whether or not he thought the particular story was true or not, after dinner which was, blessedly, not dosed with elfroot this time, and a few pre-bedtime sexcapade-stories, Cullen was lying on his side, his back to Aurum as he desperately tried to think of anything else. Anything except Aurum. Maker _please_ , anything but her. Not that thinking about her was necessarily bad, but she was right next to him, her back facing his. They were still sharing their sleeping bags, having zipped them together to maximize the amount of space they both had without letting any cold draft seep in while they slept.

She was right _there_ and he was very much aware of that. He was also very much aware of all the wild stories she had traded with Dorian and Bull about what, exactly the Dalish do when they’re bored out there in the forests of the Free Marches. Cullen was almost certain that she was making some of those stories up, because he could not quite manage to visualize what she had been describing.

That inability to visualize what she meant only made him think harder about what it was that she had been saying, which, unhelpfully, kept her constantly on his mind.

Even when he tried to fall back on the old trick of reciting the Chant of Light until the thoughts left him and he fell down into a deeps sleep, he thought of Aurum still. It was a serious problem, he realized after another hour of lying still, his eyes shut and mouth moving around the words of worship he had been taught as a child. They were so rote, so memorized, that the mere act of reciting them was not enough to get his mind to stop focusing on her.

He had discovered a new talent, apparently. He could both recite the Chant of Light, perfectly, and think about Aurum’s perfect pair of tits and how they had filled out the shirt she had been wearing and –

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed between clenched teeth, disturbing the hushed silence of the campsite.

He heard movement from behind him, and after a brief pause a muttered:

“ _Seriously._ ”

“Maker, you’re still awake?”

Aurum huffed and did not respond for a moment.

“Obviously, yes,” she snapped, jerking the sleeping bag up higher on her shoulders.

“Did I – was I keeping you up?”

“Creators, no, it was not…you, specifically. No. Go back to the Chant, Cullen. I’ll be fine. I’m just…not going to sleep tonight, is all.”

For a while, the soothing sound of rain on the tent was the only thing either of them could hear. Not even the gentle sounds of breathing could be heard over the constant hush-sh-sh-sh of the rainfall.

“Why?”

Cullen felt Aurum stiffen behind him for a moment, and then, with a sigh, she rolled onto her back.

“It’s a bad idea for mages to go to sleep when they’re in…certain states. It draws demons. So I’m just keeping myself awake for a while until things settle out.”

The word ‘demon’ certainly got Cullen’s attention. He turned to her quickly, looking at her carefully. If she was in danger of being possessed, he would have to handle it. It was important to make sure no one else was put into danger by what was happening to her. She was not showing any of the signs of possession, which put him at ease.

“Calm down, Templar. I’m not going to get all demonic on you. I have it under control. I just can’t sleep, is all.”

That was not comforting. She was not a Circle mage, and he did not have any of his equipment with him. There was also the whole part where the thought of her actually being possessed and having to be killed out here in the cold wilderness was…painful to him. He did not want to hurt her. He did not want her to be hurt, at all.

“…What sort of demon would it be?”

“Oh _Creators¸_ does it even matter? I’m not going to sleep until the problem resolves itself or the sun comes up. So it doesn’t quite matter.”

“I want to help you, Aurum.”

“Unless you are going to let me sit on your face and then lick me until I cum a couple dozen times, you’re not really helping, Cullen.”

There was silence again. Aurum fumed and turned back onto her side, not wanting to look at Cullen or admit that she had even said those words. It was bad enough to be so fucking worked up that she legitimately was worried about possession in her sleep, bad enough that her hands bore a dozen crescent-shaped cuts from her fingernails digging into her skin to keep her awake and alert, but to actually suggest that to Cullen?

“ _Ugh_ ,” she snarled.

Not even her embarrassment could cool her blood though. She still prickled over-hot, her skin too tight against her bones, her heart beating too hard against her ribs, everything was just too much for her. She was starting to even consider stripping down into her underwear and going for a midnight walk in the rain to try and gross herself out of being so _fucking_ horny.

“Alright.”

Cullen’s voice confused her for a moment – breaking through the cyclical thoughts running through her mind and interrupting everything. It took her precious seconds to recognize what he was actually saying, and when she did, her mouth went dry. Her cunt was an entirely different story though, and the arousal she had been trying to battle off for hours roared into a conflagration hot enough to make taking all her clothes off seem like a good idea. Still, the thought that even entertaining her stupid suggestion was so acutely **wrong** would not leave her, and she had to fight to gather her thoughts back into some semblance of coherence.

“Cullen, please, I was being serious.”

“So’m I.”

How her blood was not evaporating right out of her skin, Aurum did not know, but it wasn’t, and Cullen was hesitantly running his fingers across her hip, seeking permission for something.

“Cullen. I’m not – I wasn’t kidding. That’s all I can think about right now and I-”

“Come on then, Aurum.”

“I-I are you _really_ serious?”

He pulled her towards him, turned her head and kissed her desperately, pulling her up against him and holding her there. If she would not believe his words alone, he would give her something to believe. Aurum was still slow to reciprocate his advances, uncertain still if this was actually happening. When Cullen slid his body up on top of hers and she felt the hard press of his cock against her belly, she groaned into his kiss.

“ _Very_ serious,” he growled, grinding his cock down against her.

Aurum trembled and mentally scrambled for a reason to stop this. To say no, to not do this because they were, after all, just faking and this was going a step beyond just _faking_. Cullen did much the same, trying to find the tangled threads of thoughts that had lead to this moment, to examine them carefully and figure out what the fuck had happened to make it so that Aurum was rolling him onto his back and hastily stripping out of her pajama bottoms while still pressing hot, needy kisses up and down his neck. She was growling Dalish at him, or at the sleeping bag, he was not entirely certain, but she was hastily tugging the zipper of the conjoined bags down, stripping them apart when they did not part fast enough.

He got the barest glimpses of her bared body as she busily tried to make room for what they were going to do. The rustling of her hasty rearrangement seemed overly loud to his ears against the silence of the world outside, and he strained to hear if Bull or Dorian had been roused. It was very late at night, so if they were asleep, they should not hear what he and Aurum were doing. The chance of being caught, the merest thought of it made a deep thrill rush through him almost as much as it…no, it was just thrill.

Would they get caught? Did it matter?

They were in a faux relationship. This is the sort of thing that he would gladly do for his girlfriend. So it was not unusual. It was nothing he should be ashamed of.

Her left knee pressed against his shoulder for a moment, and he bit back the moan rising in his throat. Maker’s breath she was going to do this. She was going to straddle his shoulders and he was going to seal his mouth against her cunt and eat her out until she came on his tongue. His breath stuck in his throat as she swung her other leg over his body, settling her weight down gently on his chest.

“One more time Cullen. Tell me to stop.”

How was he supposed to do that when he could smell her arousal? When he could _feel_ it already dripping onto his bare chest? Did she honestly think he would let her go when he was so close to her?

Cullen did not know how to respond. So he cupped her ass with both hands and pushed her forward until she settled herself squarely over his face. Before she could buck away, before she could tell _him_ to stop, he pulled her down to his mouth, greedily seeking her pleasure with his lips and tongue.

“A- _ah!_ Cullen!”

Her exclamation wasn’t quieted in the slightest, and he slapped her ass in chastisement. They needed to be quiet. They should be quiet. They _needed_ to be quiet. Aurum covered her mouth with one hand, and buried the other in Cullen’s messy curls. She pulled his hair, urging his mouth and tongue to work harder, deeper, faster. He moaned when she started rocking her hips in time with his tongue.

Aurum dominated his senses, and Cullen could not care less. He had a mouth full of her, and there was nothing he could do that would displease her at this point. Her slick juices slid down his face, and he drank from her like a – a –

Maker did it matter? Did it really?

He curled his tongue inside her and above him, she choked on his name, holding her hand tight against her mouth to try and keep quiet. She tightened her grip on his hair and pulled, either as encouragement or a desperate plea to stop. Not even Aurum was certain which it really was. Because _Creators_ did what Cullen was doing with his tongue feel good. He flicked it and curled it, pushing into her, and then taking long moments savoring her outer lips. Her head dropped back and she panted around her fingers, desperate to try and remain quiet. Bull and Dorian were mere feet from them in their own tents, and she did not need Dorian to come over and interrupt them. She needed Cullen to keep doing **that** with his tongue because she honestly could not get enough of it.

If she had known that Cullen was this skilled with his mouth, she would have taken his stupid fucking shirt much more seriously. She gently rolled her hips, seeking more friction, more sensation, more movement from him, but Cullen’s hands reached up to grab her firmly by the hips and held her _still_. Hells, she was even half-certain that she heard him growl from his position beneath her and it made what little strength that remained in her legs (previously, she had been using some manner of strength to keep from smothering Cullen with her cunt) vanish.

Her full weight fell onto his face, and she trembled when Cullen’s fingers dug into her skin and pulled her back up. He held her up like she weighed nothing and went about eating her out like she was a feast and he was a man dying of hunger. Aurum was utterly helpless. There was not enough strength in her to hold herself up, so she relied entirely on Cullen’s strength, and he did not fail her, holding her steady and still, even as her back bowed. Aurum fell forward, pleasure blistering her too hard for her to even remain _upright_.

Again, one of Cullen’s hands caught her, keeping her from falling forward. His casual display of strength sent another hot lance of desire into her blood. Creators she just needed a little more, a little bit more and she was certain she was going to explode. She mumbled something to that effect around her fingers, trying to communicate to Cullen that she was going to –

He lifted her into the air, turned and lay her down next to him. In a continuation of the same long movement, he pulled her legs up over his shoulders and her hips high. He knelt, and pulled her cunt back to his mouth, leaving her hanging from his shoulders, with only her shoulders on the ground to support herself.

“C-Cullen!” she gasped, arching her back, weakly thrusting her hips against his eager mouth.

His tongue, his lips, that _scar_ all worked in tandem to bring her ever closer to the crest of what was going to be one of the greatest orgasms she’d ever fucking had. Aurum whined, high and plaintive and bucked weakly against his grip on her hips. _Creators_ she was so fucking _close_ and –

She looked up at him, for one brief moment, to indulge her curiosity in _seeing_ what it looked like when Cullen had his face buried in her cunt. If there was ever a moment where having the preternaturally good eyesight of an elvhen was both blessing and curse, it was right then. Because she could see him, as clearly as she could in daylight, his mouth and cheeks glistening with her fluids, his jaw working as he licked and kissed and thrust his tongue into her, and his eyes, Creators save her, his eyes never leaving her body. His pupils were wide, which at any other time, she would have attributed to the mere fact that it was dark outside and he was a human, but there was a wildness, a hunger dancing in them that caught her entirely by surprise.

He held her gaze intensely, staring her down with eyes that were more black than gold. His hair was mussed into a wild mane that haloed his head, and then…he _smirked_ at her, the barest hint of his scar crooking up over the horizon of her pubic bone. It was that little barely-there suggestion of it, the suddenly very-there knowledge of his scar being right there, of his mouth being there of him being there that had an immediate effect on her. She bit her hand hard enough to draw blood to muffle the keening wail that ripped from her chest as she came, and came desperately hard. Cullen held onto her through it all, even as her hips bucked against his mouth and she squirmed from overstimulation.

He did not stop.

No, Creators no, he did not stop.

He smirked at her again, as soon as the shuddering faded and Aurum looked back at him. He smirked, and continued. Just once was not enough for him. To see her undone so completely just **once** was never going to be enough.

“Cullen, _please_. Cullen please!”

He hummed a question against her flesh and she thrashed again, arching her back and biting her lip to quiet her cursing. Maker, was that a sight to see. She had asked for help, and he was going to give it to her until he was entirely certain that she would not be plagued by the possibility of demons in her sleep. Aurum writhed in his grasp, trying to kick her legs off his shoulders, trying to escape and get away from his most delicious of tortures. Cullen rolled his eyes at the mere thought and pulled her close, leaning over her and pinning her down with his weight. All the while, he kept his mouth on her, licking and laving and tasting and delighting in every last moment of this.

Cullen pulled his mouth away from her for the barest of moments, just long enough for her to relax, to think that she was going to be given a moment to rest, to collect her thoughts and tell him to stop and mean it.

“You said a ‘couple dozen times’ Aurum. I would be quite remiss if I didn’t make sure you were well and truly capable of sleeping, wouldn’t I?”

She stiffened, looking up at him as he leaned further over her, forcing her into a tight ball, with her legs still up over his shoulders and her hips held flush against his mouth. A thin needle of concern wormed through the overwhelming tidal wave of desire. He couldn’t possibly be serious.

“Cullen – I didn’t – I was being – I _can’t_.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?” he growled at her, opening his mouth wide and returning to his task with gusto.

Aurum threw her head back and whined, the song high and reedy. She needed so much more and at the same time, she wanted nothing more than for Cullen to stop because it was already reaching the point of _too much_. He manipulated her hips so he would have a better angle on her clit and assaulted the pleasure point there mercilessly. Aurum begged for leniency, sobbing Cullen’s name as she tried in vain to writhe out of his grip.

He only pressed her into a tighter ball, leaning down into her with his weight, making sure she knew that the only way for her to get away was to tell him to _Stop_ or to succumb to the pleasure he was forcing upon her. Aurum gasped when he suckled on her over-sensitive clit, her hands no longer covering her mouth, but scrambling for something to hold onto to ground her in reality.

Outside, there was the ominous rumble of an oncoming thunderstorm.

Cullen held her tight to his chest, not caring that the angle meant his neck was bent at an odd angle. All that mattered was holding Aurum still enough for his mouth to still work on her. Her thighs tightened around his head and her entire body tensed beneath him.

A lightning bolt cracked down out of the sky, and thunder covered the sound of Aurum’s wail. She came hard enough to rip a scream out of her throat, masked by another clap of thunder. Cullen did not think anything of it until the _inside_ of the tent was lit with coils of electricity. Fractals of lightning danced across Aurum’s skin, providing just enough light for him to see the thin sheen of sweat on her skin, and the jumping of her muscles as her pleasure consumed her.

Hesitantly, he licked her again. Aurum seized up again, her muscles taught, magical lightning curling around her, and again – the crash of thunder drowned out her passionate cry.

Her body trembled in his grasp. She panted, wholly incapable of forming words or sentences, unable to ask him to stop or continue. The rumble of thunder masked her gasping moans, but Cullen knew that the thunder might not last long enough to completely mask her sounds. He dropped her legs off his shoulders, letting them come to rest on either side of his hips.

Cullen took a moment to rub his aching jaw, enjoying the soreness as proof of what he had done. Aurum, beneath him, had an arm flung over her eyes and was still gasping for air. Stuttering moans colored her gasps, and Cullen leaned down to cover her mouth with his own. It was to muffle her sounds, to keep Dorian and Bull from awakening. That was the reason for it. The way Aurum reached up to twine both of her hands in his hair and kiss him was just a really good side effect of what was happening.

She kissed him breathlessly, licking her own juices off his face, kissing him again, and then _kissing him_ , pushing him backwards until he was lying flat on the now very rumpled sleeping bag. Aurum kissed him ferociously, with more energy than he thought was possible for her to have after all that bucking and moaning and groaning she had done just moments before. Cullen was definitely not going to complain, however, because she was holding his face steady to kiss him better, and she was definitely kissing him well.

He held her when her legs lost their strength, letting her rest her body atop his. Aurum’s breath slowly eased back to normal, but she still kissed him. His face, his neck, his lips, his scar, over and over and over again until she had her breath back.

“Okay, first: that was awesome. Second: _fuck_. Third: Get your pants off, it’s your turn.”

Her words came out in a breathless rush. She had already made one suggestion in jest, and Cullen looked at her, waiting for this to be revealed as a joke as well. Aurum tugged at his pajamas and growled at him.

“I’m serious, Cullen. Get them off. I am not in the habit of letting someone giving me what could arguably be the best series of orgasms I’ve ever had without returning the favor. Pants off.”

“Aurum, I-”

She sighed, kissed him once more, and then shimmied down his body, pressing her hand against his cock just enough to feel how hard he was. Cullen groaned long and low in his chest, his hands clenching at his sides. Something that could have been her name spilled from her lips, and she smiled up at him.

“Tell me to stop, Cullen,” she whispered. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

She rubbed her thumbs along his hipbones. Cullen flexed his hips up into her questioning hands, gasping her name. One of his hands wrapped around her wrist, and he pulled her hand back up to his mouth. He pressed a kiss into her palm, and then held her hand against his chest so she could feel his frantic heartbeat. Cullen sighed and let his head fall back. Aurum remained still, waiting for permission to be given or rescinded. She was not going to do something he did not want her to do, but he was not really being forthcoming with what _was_ acceptable.

“Cullen, you need to tell me what you want. Please. Tell me no, tell me yes, tell me _something_.”

He groaned again, covering his face with a hand. This was an impossible decision, he couldn’t in good faith ask for what she was telling him to ask for, but at the same time, the thought of _not_ asking for it made him ache. The rational part of his mind said that he was being stupid, he had just given her pleasure unlike anything she had experienced and now she wanted to return the favor, but there was another equally rational part that was screaming that this was going beyond the boundaries of ‘faking it’. This was more than that. But she was offering. She was offering and he wanted.

“Aurum, please. Yes.”

Her breathy exhalation masked her excitement. Aurum leaned up just far enough to kiss the same hip she had been caressing, and then –

“Andraste’s _tits_!” Cullen snapped out through clenched teeth.

Aurum had his pajama bottoms pulled down and his cock in her mouth. He was not so crass as to push her head down, or even put his hands on the back of her head, but he arched up against her mouth. Aurum hummed his name, and he cursed again, and _again_ when her tongue did _something_ that made stars dance across his vision. She gave him no respite, just as he had done to her, working her mouth and hands up and down his cock. Her lips and tongue danced sin across his skin and Cullen gave himself over to it freely.

He tried once, for a moment, to look down at Aurum, to give her the dignity of paying attention to what she was doing, but then he was actually _looking_ at her as his cock disappeared between her lips, as her tongue peeked out of her mouth to taste him, _Maker_ as she echoed his moans. Cullen had to look away or risk cumming embarrassingly early. Not that she would judge him for that much – having his mouth on her had been fucking arousing as hell and now her mouth was on him. No mortal man could withstand that much pleasure.

Cullen covered his face with the crook of his elbow, trying to hold his breath. If he wasn’t breathing, he wouldn’t make any more potentially embarrassing sounds.

His plan worked for a few seconds longer than he was honestly expecting, and Aurum took her mouth away from his cock just long enough to suck another hickey onto his hip, too far down his body for anyone except him to have a chance to see it. That gained her a shocked gasp, and with a devious smile that should have _told_ him she was planning something, she went back to having her mouth sliding down his cock. He had a moment to enjoy the feeling of hot, wet, slick, sliding tongue with a shudder before a sharp, electric shock snapped his attention back down.

Aurum was smirking, her mouth still wrapped around him, but she held up one hand to waggle her fingers at him. Small sparks danced across her fingertips, and before Cullen could warn her off, tell her _no_ , or stop her, she had turned her attention back to the task of making him cum. Her mouth slid _down_ , and her fingers caressed his thigh. Sparks danced across his skin, setting his nerves alight and –

“ _Fuck_ , Aurum!”

Forgoing all politeness, he buried his hands in her hair and thrust _up_ into her waiting, open, wet mouth. Aurum took the unconscious movement in stride, humming happily as she sent another shockwave through Cullen’s body. She had seen him watching her magic and if there was one thing she was good at, it was making ~~lovers~~ men lose all sense of propriety as soon as she got their cocks into her mouth. Aurum slid her mouth down and down and down his length until she had the entirety of his cock inside her.

Cullen whimpered when she held her position, not moving her tongue or mouth or lips or anything. Not even an electric shock to break the stillness of the moment. He knew she had to be holding her breath too, and he bit back another curse.

“Au _rum_ ,” he growled in warning, trying to urge her into movement before she passed out.

She smiled lazily, somehow, and ran both her hands up his thighs. Just before the lack of air started to make her feel ill, she withdrew. Slowly. Agonizingly slowly, letting Cullen feel her lips and tongue slid along every last part of him. He groaned, long and low, and with a conspiratorial wink, Aurum sent splinters of her magic racing up his skin. He tensed, all the air in his lungs driven out in his surprise, and then he was snapping his hips up and pushing her head _down_ and cumming with a soundless cry.

He only came back to himself after Aurum had wiggled herself back into her own nightclothes and rearranged herself in the sleeping bag. Cullen tried to catch his breath, pulling his own clothing back into place and sliding back next to her. Aurum giggled under her breath and reached for Cullen’s hand.

He took her hand in his own, and tugged it up to his lips so he could press a kiss to her knuckles.

Aurum sighed happily and cuddled up next to him, twining her legs with his and burying her face in his neck. Any other time, she would have been concerned about showing so much blatant affection when there was no real purpose to it, but she was _very_ happy right then and she _liked_ being so close to Cullen. It felt good.

“Better?” Cullen asked, not knowing what else to say.

“Mmmhm.”

“Going to sleep now?”

“Mmhm.”

“Can you say anything other than ‘mhm’.”

“No, fuck you.”

Cullen couldn’t help the chortle that spilled from his lips. Aurum wiggled even closer to him, sighed, and fell asleep almost immediately. Cullen lingered awake a little longer, trying to understand what just happened. Thinking was still a little difficult. It was a lot difficult, actually. Aurum was warm against his skin, and…Maker nothing else mattered.

* * *

 

The next morning, the two of them had breakfast (blessedly undosed with elfroot) and talked, waiting for the other pair to wake up. Dorian finally shoved his head out of his tent, saw Aurum and Cullen and narrowed his eyes dangerously. Aurum met his gaze placidly, blinking owlishly as she tried to place just why Dorian would be looking at her with such venom. She had thought their brief mud-fight had been enough to cool his temper.

Dorian disappeared back into the tent he was sharing with Bull, only to storm out moments later.

“Think that was funny?” he snarled, snatching his bowl out of her hands when Aurum offered it to him.

“Think what was funny?”

“Summoning a _mage storm_ last night when your boyfriend was-”

“Aurum, you summoned a _storm_?” Cullen exclaimed, cutting Dorian off.

“Uh. Yes, actually.”

“She does it whenever she gets too excited. Drives me up the fucking wall, gives me a headache that lasts for days.”

Aurum blushed scarlet, but did not quail from Dorian’s gaze.

“At least I’ve never set any _curtains_ on fire, Dorian.”

He gaped at her, the slightest of blushes coloring his cheeks. Bull, still in the tent behind Dorian, chuckled.

“She has a point, Sparkler.”

“You stay out of this, Bull!” Dorian snapped.

“I’m just sayin’.”

Dorian threw his hands in the air, not caring that it sent his bowl of breakfast flying. Aurum sniggered under her breath and turned to look at Cullen, wanting to see his reaction to the rather hilarious image of a Tevinter Altus throwing a hissy fit.

But Cullen was staring at her, his eyes dark. He stared at her, as if calculating some sort of grim mathematic problem. Aurum’s ears flattened against her head and she tried to reach for his hand, for assurance that she had not upset him. Pointedly, however, he moved his hand away from hers, and shook his head ever-so-slightly.

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach and she looked away from him. Something dark and dangerous had crept into their not-relationship and Aurum could not place where it had come from. Cullen swallowed the knot in his throat and tried not to stare at her.

* * *

He was silent on the entire drive back to town. Cullen allowed her small displays of affection, the sort Bull and Dorian would expect to see, but nothing more than the minimum. It was not the time or place to ask him questions about it, Aurum knew that. They could not talk freely with Dorian and Bull right there, but she wanted to.

Creators, she wanted him to talk to her.

The darkness yawned between them.


	5. Chapter 5

He told her with a single text message.

He did not call.

He did not respond to her agitated, angry, _hurt_ messages back to him, and he certainly did not answer the phone when she called. Aurum was never so desperate as to go visit his apartment, but she demanded an answer. She never received one.

Fury scorched her heart and she shoved it away. They had been playing a game. She knew that. It had been a joke. She knew that, too. He had every right to stop whatever it was that they had been doing. She just wished for an explanation. Why it happened, why _now_ , why the way he did it. She wished in vain. No explanation came.

She bit her tongue when Bull came in, and stormed back to her rooms when the information finally reached Dorian. The sound of her door slamming behind her was all Dorian managed to get out of her. There was no screaming, no dramatics, nothing. The relationship was done and so was she.

Cullen owed her no explanation.

But that did not stop her from wanting one anyway. None came.

* * *

 [I’m sorry.]

The text message came mere days before the Ball at the Palace, as she was packing for their trip to Halamshiral. Her phone buzzed at her and for a long while, she did not know what it meant, or who could have sent it to her. She had deleted Cullen’s number to keep from embarrassing herself by texting him any more than she already had, but when she finally remembered that the number showing up as unknown to her phone was his…well it still did not make anything any better.

Nothing else came. Aurum growled and deleted the message. If he did not want to speak to her, then he should not speak to her.

* * *

 

“Dorian, please tell me you’re not going to try and set me up at the Ball. And tell me the truth.”

For a moment, Dorian paused, considering her words carefully as he adjusted his suit. He was wearing a sumptuous cream tuxedo, accented with deep blue, to match her dress. His mask was silver, carved in the shape of a dragon’s face, amazingly intricate and sumptuous. He looked outrageously handsome, even standing in their rented suite for the evening. Dorian never did things halfway, and if they were going to have to spend a few nights in Halamshiral, he was not going to do it in a shitty cheap motel.

“I can’t do both, dear.”

Aurum sighed and pushed her own mask up so she could rub the bridge of her nose. She was wearing a dress, an elaborate one embossed in bronze threads with patterns of twining twisting dragons, that covered from neck to toe. She even had a hood up over her ears, connected to her mask to keep it in place. Her dress was a slinky thing, clinging to her curves, with a corset to make her small waist that much smaller. She was practically unrecognizable in the deep blue dress. Dorian’s mask was a dragon, and to match, her own was as well, though it was a deep bronze instead of silver. They looked very good together.

“I can still refuse to go, you know.”

“We both know you won’t. You _like_ being dressed up.”

He was right. She did like being dressed up.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t take your _boyfriend_ to this, though. I could have gone unpaired, I could’ve just shown up-”

Dorian huffed.

“Bull doesn’t like parties. He just wants me to bring him some small sandwiches. And get the recipe for some of those small spiced cookies from one of the cooks, if I can.”

Aurum rolled her eyes and fussed with the cuff of her long sleeves, pulling it further down her wrists to cover as much of herself as possible. The current fashion of the times required skin to be shown everywhere, scandalously so. Dresses were more gossamer than silk, tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination, and Aurum had shied away from even considering wearing something like that.

The dress she wore was a good compromise. Tight, yes, but solid in color and fabric. Unusual for the times, sure, but that would make things so much more interesting.

Dorian fixed the lay of her dress’s high color on her neck, and adjusted her hood.

“Stop fussing at it. You look divine.”

Aurum sighed and let her hands drop. Dorian was right to try and calm her down, but that did not stop the nerves. She was nervous, Creators help her. She didn’t know why she was nervous, other than the obvious chance that Dorian would try and play matchmaker again. It was not unusual for such things to occur at the Ball – in fact, it was practically commonplace for the Ball to function as a sort of blind-dating service, each year themed differently for interested parties to engage in.

This year it was ‘Locks and Keys’, and Dorian pulled out a golden chain with a lock hanging off of it. He clasped it around her neck, fixing it in place. Only the person who had the key that matched her lock could…unlock it. The entire idea rankled Aurum and she tapped her foot irritably.

“What did you do – and _why_? The last thing you tried to start ended pretty awfully.”

“Bull talked to Cullen, he said he was sorry.”

“Yeah, he texted me that too. After he texted me that he was breaking up with me. Class act, that.”

Dorian sighed and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Listen, Aurum. I’ll admit. That was a bad thing I did. I thought it would be funny, and it turns out it wasn’t. I’m trying to make it right.”

Aurum sighed and looked away. She did not know what to make of that, or what to say to it. She still had not told Dorian the truth of what had happened between her and Cullen, and she did not know if she ever would. It wasn’t a particularly proud moment in her life. She had tried not to think too much of it, and mollified herself with the knowledge that Cullen was not going to be here. She was going to be his ticket to the Ball, and now that he was not talking to her, she did not expect to see him.

“You don’t have to. I can handle myself, Dorian. I’m a big girl.”

“Let me spoil you, alright, Aurum? I have to make this right.”

“Dorian. It’s fine. Really. I don’t need to have someone ‘special’ in my life. I am happy for you and Bull, and you don’t need to…do this.”

He chuckled, and adjusted her hood one last time and booped the tip of her nose.

“I’m not doing this to make my relationship with Bull palatable to myself. I want you to be happy.”

Aurum sighed, and stepped forward to hug her friend tight. He froze for only a moment before returning the embrace, holding her tight to him. Or at least, he held tight as much as he could without mussing his outfit, or hers, or her makeup, or his hair, or anything else about them. They looked divine, exquisite, they flouted their aberrations from normal society and reveled in it. Aurum was barefoot, elvhen and covered. Dorian was masked, yes, but had chosen to eschew the normal colorations befitting an escort to a woman, a high-courtly sign thtat he was an escort, but not a partner.

The both of them were different. Odd. That was good.

* * *

The Ball was in full swing by the time she and Dorian swept in. Every year, as in all the years before, the Ball thrown by the Winter Palace was the event of events. The highest noble houses were represented, as were the wealthiest of the wealthy. There were a few people, like Aurum, who were being brought by more esteemed named families, but she was a rarity. Both for being an elf, and for not coming from one of the more well-known lineages present.

That did not stop her from enjoying her time. A good many of the people she knew through Dorian, or just in passing were there. Their bookstore was rather well-known for the rare and eclectic selection they had, and Aurum always managed to find her way into the most interesting of situations. But this was a masquerade, and she was only to reveal her identity at the end of the night. She knew who Dorian was, of course – he was her escort, and she could make some pretty safe guesses as to the identities of a few of her friends who had also merited invitations, either based on their royal blood (poor Cassandra was sulking in the corner) or their connections (Josephine and Leliana made a great pair, gossiping in the corner).

Aurum stayed in movement, flitting hither and thither through the Ball, enjoying the atmosphere and the anonymity of it all. Dorian busied himself with finding some of those tiny sandwiches and cookies Bull liked so much, waving Aurum away when she came by to help.

“You have a key to find, love.”

She ran her fingers over the gilded lock at her throat. She did, didn’t she? Each lock matched a key, both in look, style, and actual fit. Aurum looked down at the lock. Its style was…plain, compared to many of the other locks and keys she saw around the necks of the other players. Were she to be the sort to care about appearances, she would feel inadequate. But she did not care about appearances. She had someone to find.

There was more than just searching for her match, though.

Others approached her, their fancy keys glittering in the lights of the ballroom. More than one asked for a dance, and Aurum almost always agreed. She loved to dance, and the steps of the court-dances were easy enough to pick up if one paid attention. They complimented her steps, her movements, and when the dance was done, they would leave with a bow.

A few women with locks dangling from their necks came to compliment her dress, her mask, her hooded hair. Aurum again, greeted them all warmly. None commented on her lack of shoes in any way that made her feel inadequate. Then again, none of them knew who she was, so they were wary of making any serious insult. Many were known by their family masks, symbols written into the metal to indicate lineages, pedigrees – nothing Aurum had.

But she wore the mask of a dragon, no lineage apparent, with clothing so wildly deviant from the norm that most assumed she had to be _someone_ very important. No common peon would ever dare snub the courtly intrigue the way she was otherwise.

Aurum was, apparently, too irreverent to be uninteresting.

She danced, she rubbed elbows, she played nice with all the important people. She did everything correctly, and while it did not really matter to her, it was still nice to play the princess for the evening. Even if she was not true royalty, even if she was not really anyone important, it was amazing to have some of the people she knew were amongst the greater political movers and shakers of Thedas. She smiled, she nodded along, she did everything short of accept a marriage proposal from a smiling man in the moustached mask.

“My lady?”

Aurum turned to the voice, careful to keep her expression neutral until she had taken stock of the man speaking to her.

“I believe you bear my lock.”

She did not look directly down at his key, first taking his entire outfit into account. He wore a three piece suit with jacket, vest and slacks that were green so deep it was nearly black, a black collared shirt, with a-a-a green tie that nearly perfectly matched the enameled armor she had admired at the museum with Cullen. His golden mask was…indecipherable to her. She could not place the design anywhere, but it was interesting. It suited him very well, Aurum decided.

A key that definitely belonged to her lock hung neatly from his neck. Still, she was not going to let this person that Dorian was trying to set her up with woo her so easily. It had not gone well the last time, even with all the things she had done to try and work it in her own favor. This time she would play things closer to her chest. Perhaps.

“So it seems.”

“May I?” he asked, reaching for the key at his neck.

“Not yet, no. I would like to know you first, serah,” she murmured, reaching up to cover her lock protectively.

The barest hint of a blush touched his cheeks, and she reached up to cup his jaw gently.

“Very well then, my lady. What would you have of me?”

Aurum smiled at the odd turn of phrase and rested her hand companionably on his arm. He, very gentlemanly, straightened and offered his arm properly to her, as any man should offer his arm to the lady. It was a Masquerade at the Winter Palace, after all. For one night, they could all pretend to abide by the old rules of courtesy. Or at least, abide by them until it was time to throw them to the side and enjoy the more modern aspects of courtship.

“Shall we walk in the gardens? I hear they are lovely lit by starlight.”

He smiled broadly and lifted her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. Aurum blushed, and shook her head as she pulled her hand away. There was no reason for such things when all he had done was kiss her hand. She was actually very charmed by the gallant way this man was treating her, but part of her rather thought that she was just being taken up by the romance of the evening.

A masquerade, a handsome stranger, a pairing made by the hand of fate (or the hands of a Tevinter Altus), mystery and intrique. It had all the hallmarks of a truly sappy novel. Perhaps she should e-mail Varric about this entirely improbable situation. There was a novel in this somewhere, she was sure

“I will follow you anywhere, my lady.”

“Such dedication already, serah.”

“It is not often one finds someone as beautiful as you.”

“And such _flattery_.”

He chuckled, and shook his head. The cool night air embraced them, and Aurum could not help her momentary thought back to the Storm Coast. She shook her head, and ignored it. Her current companion deserved her complete attention. She would not think of Cullen. And what they had had.

“I mean every word. There is no one else here who could ever hope to match your beauty.”

Aurum sniggered, covering her mouth and shaking her head again.

“Truly, you are intent upon your flattery. You know nothing of me, and can see even less of me. Until the unmasking hour, you won’t even know what I look at.”

“Your beauty is that of the ethereal type, the sort that steals away all attention from anyone else. No one else in the entire ballroom could command my attention the way you did.”

“Then why, pray tell, did it take you so long to come speak with me? If I enraptured you so much, it seems like you wasted much of our evening.”

She meant her statement in jest, a joke, but he flinched like she had struck him, pulling ever so slightly away from her. For a long while, he was silent, and they walked towards the labyrinth deep in the gardens. Aurum enjoyed the feeling of grass on the bare soles of her feet. The flowers were closed, awaiting the sun, and she was ever so gentle when she ran her fingers across the petals.

“I am sorry, my lady. You have a point. I was remiss. I should have talked with you sooner. I was afraid.”

The apology was odd to her ears, coming so late after her statement. It sounded like there was _more_ in that apology than just a man who had been watching her through the evening. She furrowed her brows and thought hard about this whole situation. Dorian had set this up, he had said, or at least, Dorian had confessed to wanting to have her meet up with someone in particular. If this was the man, he was making a…odd first impression. Had she missed something?

“Not often a man confesses to being afraid of greeting a woman.”

“I, hah, I see your point.”

He wrung his hands together and looked away from her. Aurum’s eyes narrowed. The movement was a…hauntingly familiar one. She could not place where she had seen the movement before. It was familiar though. She thought she remembered something.

“My lady, thank you for taking the time to walk with me,” her partner said as they approached the tall hedge walls of the labyrinth.

“The pleasure is mine, serah. I am very happy to be out of the ballroom for a while, escorted by someone my friend seems to think I would enjoy.”

Her escort hummed something she could not catch under his breath and paused at the entrance to the maze. Aurum waited with him, not able to shake the feeling that she was missing something vital in this whole interaction. His mask meant something. No masks here were worn without meaning. Even Aurum’s dragon could trace some meaning back. There was some significance, and even though it escaped her, she knew it was communicating something. Dorian had tried to explain it. She had kinda ignored him.

She regretted that inattention now. There was undoubtedly some meaning in the snarling teeth that framed her escort’s face. She was missing something. Aurum knew it. She shook her head.

“Shall we, then?” she asked,

“To work,” he said with a nod.

Aurum, again, was tickled by the thought that she was missing something. But her escort patted her hand comfortingly and led her into the maze.

“Have you ever walked a labyrinth before, my lady?”

“No, I’ve never had the chance. But my Grandmother taught me how to master them. It is slow, but it works. You will always find your way out, or to the middle, whatever the goal is.”

“What wisdom did she pass on, then?”

“Much and more than how to handle simple party entertainment, for a surety, but…”

Aurum reached out and brushed her left hand against the perfectly manicured hedge to her left.

“Put your hand on the wall, and never lift it. Follow it all the way through the maze, through dead ends and whatever comes your way. Eventually, you will find your way out. Endure through it all, and you’ll find freedom.”

She heard a sharp inhalation from her right, and turned to her escort.

“Did I offend, serah?”

“My lady, no. Never.”

He spoke with a vehemence that startled her, and he squeezed the hand on his arm to drive the thought home. But he did not look down at her, and Aurum did not know what to make of that. She waited, quietly, for him to explain his words further, but he did no such thing. So she settled into the silence, walking alongside her still-mystery man, slowly stepping through the maze. It was quiet here. No one else had come to this part of the garden, it seemed. Aurum was a little surprised by that, as she would think that many others would try to have some time alone.

The fact that no one else seemed to be interested in the maze worked in her favor, as it did allow her some time alone with this person Dorian seemed to think she would be interested in.

If Aurum was honest with herself, she appreciated the silence. She had time and space to calm herself down, to relax into the situation at hand. Aurum did appreciate what Dorian was trying to do, what he intended with his dastardly plan to set herself up with someone again. Cullen…had been nice, after all. Even if Dorian had not really intended for her to actually start a relationship with Cullen (and had told her as much after what they had had fallen apart) he had only ever meant well. It was touching, in its own way.

“My lady, may I ask you something?”

“Anything, if you will stop calling me ‘lady’ and call me Aurum.”

“I-I, uh, I…of course, Aurum.”

She smiled at him, and walked on.

“I was wondering, A-Aurum, if you might tell me about yourself. I would like to know more of you.”

“What has your curiosity, serah?”

He hemmed and hawed a bit longer, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from her. Aurum shook her head and laughed when he did not respond to her question. Their path lead them to a dead end, and Aurum made the slow turn around, skimming her fingers across the leaves of the hedge that held them in.

“My Grandmother had another thing to say about labyrinths,” she offered, just to break the silence.

“Oh, did she?”

“Yes. She said there is an old magic in every maze. When someone enters, if there is a place within the confines of maze they are meant to go, the maze will take them there. They just have to be open to the magic.”

It seemed the maze had a sense of humor, for as soon as she finished talking, the pathway opened into a beautiful, small, area. There was a reflecting pool, flanked by a small weeping willow tree, and a bench. Aurum sighed and picked up the skirts of her dress so she could dip her toes into the water. The water was cold, and chilled her feet. She shivered, but laughed anyway, stepping out of the water and letting her dress sweep back down to cover her feet.

“Maker, you are beautiful when you smile, Aurum.”

She turned to her as-of-yet-unnamed companion, a half-smile dancing on her lips.

“I do not know if you and I are of such accord for you to be praising me so readily, serah. I do not even know your name.”

His shock was apparent in how he straightened his back and peered at her from behind his mask.

“You have no guess as to who I am?”

“Humans _do_ tend to look the same to me when they wear masks. I know you are…tall. Broad. Muscled. You must know Dorian, or else I doubt you would have my key on your neck. You have very fine taste in color to inadvertently wear my own favorite shade of green. But no. I do not know where to begin my guessing as to your identity. You know mine name, then?”

“I have heard of you. Dorian speaks highly of you.”

Aurum snickered.

“Oh, so he actually told you of me? The last time he tried this, I was under the impression he did not actually tell the one he was trying to set me up with just what to expect. What did he tell you, then?”

“That you are a mage unlike any other he’s met.”

“I will accept that high praise from him. But I am Dalish, and he is trained of the Black Circle. Our magic is very different, and he is aware of that. What else?”

“He said you were as beautiful as any other woman could be, that you were whip-smart, and had a tongue that cut like ice if you so desired for it to do so.”

Her escort watched carefully, not moving to touch her, just watched her as she explored the small area. Aurum rather thought that he had meant to ask a question of her, but now she was asking questions. That fact did not seem to bother her escort, who stood, waiting for her.

“He is merely upset that I made fun of him. My tongue is always sharp whenever it pierces his ego.”

Another chuckle. It tickled the back of her mind, a reminder, a thought, a memory of something so similar, but she could not place it. She stared at him, confusion touching her smile, muting it from what it would be otherwise. She inclined her head towards the continuation of the maze, and her escort offered her his arm again. She took it gladly, and they walked on.

“Dorian also made mention of your previous…relationship.”

“Is this your way to ask something specific about that relationship?”

Her escort shook his head.

“In a way, maybe. What happened? Dorian only said that you and he-”

“He sent me a text message telling me we were no more. He did not explain himself. He apologized weeks later, but never told me why he left.”

He grumbled something under his breath, and held tight to her hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure…I don’t, I don’t know what to say.”

“Nor do I. Our relationship was odd, to say the least, and I never expected him to _actually_ stay with me. But to only receive a text message that he was done with me, and could no longer…abide by the situation of our relationship, that hurt.”

Aurum did her best to keep her voice neutral, to not let her pain leak through. She had deleted the text he had sent, but _Creators_ did she still remember it.

[I can’t do this. Not anymore.]

Nothing more. Nothing _else_. No explanation when she demanded to know why he would do this to her, how he could justify just dropping her like this, over a text message, of _all_ things. She had raged at him in a manner most unbecoming of someone like her. She had raged and raged and raged and then deleted his number. It had been fine, she had not been thinking about it until just then, and now…now she was and her jaw clenched in anger.

“I did not mean to pry, Aurum. I only wanted to know what you had thought of it.”

“Not to put a fine point on it, but he was the first human I was ever ‘with’. He was also the first person to dump me. It was not a pleasant experience, but if you are trying to gauge whether or not I’m going to project all of my unrequited feelings onto you, I assure you, I won’t.”

She spoke haughtily, with an air of superiority she did not entirely feel. Because it still hurt, definitely. Still hurt. She shook her head.

“Aurum…I don’t know how to say this. I kept thinking I would know what to tell you when it came time. But I don’t.”

The silence of the maze was broken by the chiming of the midnight bell. Aurum turned her head to listen to it, waiting to see what the commotion was about. Far in the distance, the ballroom’s occupants began the chant:

“Unmask! Unmask!”

“I…I never meant it to be taken that way.”

She had been in the process of removing her mask, but his words caught her, arresting her movements entirely.

“What?”

“Unmask! Unmask! Unmask!”

“I did not mean it that way. Aurum, I had meant-”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

“Unmask! Unmask!”

Cullen pulled the mask (it was a lion, _Creators_ why didn’t she see that it was a lion?!) from his face, and Aurum’s stomach dropped out of her. Her breath caught in her throat and too many things fell into place all at once.

“Gods fucking dammit, Dorian set me up _again_. **Damn** it all!”

Aurum ripped her mask from her face and threw it at Cullen’s feet.

“What the fuck, Cullen? Why? _Why?_ Shouldn’t it have been enough that you broke off our fake relationship over a goddamned text message? You had to orchestrate this bullshit so you could come see how I was _doing_?”

“Aurum, wait, that’s not-”

“Go fuck yourself, Templar. Leave me alone,” Aurum spat. ‘Templar’ was a curse on her tongue, acidic with her hatred, laden with the pain of loss.

Aurum hated the way her heart broke in her chest. She hated the way tears sprung up at the corners of her eyes, and she **hated** the way she almost could convince herself that he looked almost as heartbroken as she felt. Aurum gathered the skirt of her dress in both hands and stormed off, heading deeper into the maze, wanting nothing more than to be away from _him_.

“Aurum! Please, please wait!”

She walked faster, breaking out into a run when she heard Cullen racing behind her. She forgot her grandmother’s advice about how to get out of a maze almost immediately, racing down twists and turns faster than she could think. She just wanted to get rid of Cullen, lose him in the maze just long enough for her to find a way to get away from him. Back to her room, back to _Dorian_ who she was _definitely_ going to shave an eyebrow and a half off of.

The hedges blurred around her and she ran.

Creators, did she run. She ran until her path came to a dead end, a huge wall of shrubbery blocking her path forward. Aurum spun on her heel, not caring about the mud that now sullied her hem or her feet. If she was fast enough, she could make it back to the last fork and pick a new direction.

Cullen turned the corner before she had the chance to backtrack, and Aurum instinctively withdrew from him, backing into the wall behind her.

“Aurum, I’m _sorry_ , but-”

“No! No fucking ‘buts’ you godsdamned _Templar_.”

His mouth dropped open. She snarled, peeling her lips back over her too-sharp teeth. Magic crackled dangerously in the air around her – a warning, a demonstration. She was not going to let him closer to her.

“Aurum-”

“I don’t want to hear what you have to sa-”

“Aurum, _listen_ to me, damn it! I’m trying to explain!”

Cullen turned away from her, burying both of his hands in his hair in exasperation. He turned back towards her, trying to find the words he wanted to use. Aurum pressed back against the hedge, searching for safety in the rough embrace of the plants. She stared at him like an animal caged, waiting for a moment where she could get away. She wanted to be away from him. This was too much for her to handle.

“I didn’t – I _didn’t_ mean it like that. I couldn’t keep pretending. Not after that night. I couldn’t _pretend_.”

Aurum ignored the way her heart felt, crossing her arms and looking away from Cullen as she tried to rein her emotions in.

“Then you did the right fucking thing in ending it, didn’t you? Now we don’t have to pretend. That still doesn’t explain why you’re-”

It took Cullen all of two steps to close the space between the both of them. Before Aurum could cock her hand back to punch him for getting too close, or wrap her magic around herself in defense, he had both of his hands wrapped around the back of her neck. He pulled her in for a kiss, overwhelming her objections with passion. Aurum’s gasp was muffled by his lips, and her shock melted into a very quick rising knee, right into Cullen’s crotch.

He nearly headbutted her as he doubled over wheezing. Aurum pushed him over, and he toppled easily. With a final ‘hmph’, Aurum swept past him, leaving him curled on the ground, the dirt staining his fine clothes.


	6. Chapter 6

[Aurum, please. Can I explain?]

The text alert was investigated, and ignored. Aurum was too busy with ignoring Cullen to pay attention to Cullen. Dorian was hovering behind her, his eyebrows penciled in and his moustache looking significantly ruffled. It may have been a week since the Ball and her vengeance upon Dorian’s facial hair, and Aurum may have had time to cool off and try to understand what had happened, but Dorian was still wary of her.

As he should be, really.

[Aurum, please? I am sorry, you know that.]

Cullen had only just started to text her again, and Aurum had ignored all of his messages. He had ignored her, she was very capable of ignoring him. She would still read his messages, at the very least.

And no, she had not put his name back in her phone, so she just knew it was him because he was the only person who kept trying to apologize over texts. It was too early for this bullshit anyway. She was on here couch, in her pajamas, considering what tea she wanted to have with her morning oatmeal. Her phone chirruped again.

[I can see that you read these, you know.]

Aurum nearly threw her phone across the room.

[[Just because you feel like talking doesn’t mean I have to entertain you.]]

Responding was probably not the best thing to do – she knew it would only legitimize him texting her all the more but that last message had really gotten under her skin. Of course he would have one of those phones that did that sort of bullshit.

[I’m not asking for entertainment. I want to apologize.]

[[Last time you tried that, you kissed me to keep me from arguing with you.]]

[And as I recall, you stepped over my prone form after you kneed me in the dick. Made it very clear how you felt.]

[[You deserved it.]]

[I don’t think I disagreed with that.]

Aurum snorted her laugh, and Dorian, behind her shoulder, reading everything when she was not paying attention to what he was doing, smiled. This was going much better than expected. But she had nothing to say in response, so she tossed her phone to the side and went back to her mindless consumption of early-morning infomercials.

“Dorian, can you put the kettle on please?”

Dorian ‘harumphed’ at her but toddled off to the kitchen anyway.

[This is a stupid question.]

Aurum made a face at her phone when she read the message. There was no question included in the text, and she was left waiting, wondering what was going on. She did not send him a response, waiting on the ‘stupid question’.

There was just enough time before she got the explanation she was looking for, for Aurum to consider her reaction to Cullen contacting her. Almost as soon as she actually started engaging with him again, she started feeling all those old traitorous thoughts bubble up again. She was _mad_ at Cullen, Creators damn him, and she shouldn’t be so fucking enraptured. And his stupid little ploy of making her wait by her phone for the ‘stupid question’ was working on her, which was the most frustrating part.

Dorian was humming suspiciously happily in the kitchen, and Aurum turned her head to regard him. Was there something _else_ afoot? She would have rather thought that Dorian, at least, had learned his lesson about trying to meddle so severely in her love affairs. So if there was something going on, she was going to have to think of something else to do to vex her flatmate.

Aurum looked between Dorian and her phone, trying to figure out just what had him in such a suspiciously good mood. He was not, by any turn of the phrase, a ‘morning person’. Dorian was just as likely to bemoan the rising of the sun as he was to spend overmuch time grooming himself. No text came, and Dorian’s happy humming tailed off. He continued dithering about in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, and Aurum watched, very confused, as he started getting more and more agitated.

Well there was definitely something going on.

She just didn’t know what it was yet. Sighing, Aurum stood from her position on the couch. She left her phone on the arm of the couch and walked back to her room. Pajamas were amazing and everything, but she did have to get dressed eventually.

Clothes, then tea and breakfast, and then she’d go to the store and work for a while. A pleasant, if a little slow, day.

Her bedroom door closed behind her, and almost immediately after that, she heard Dorian swear colorfully in Tevene.

“Dorian, is everything okay out there?” she called out as she stripped out of her bedclothes, haphazardly throwing them towards her hamper without really caring where everything ended up.

“Fasta _vass_ , yes, alright! Just get dressed,” he snapped back.

Aurum paused, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. She dressed as she usually did for work – a nice pair of jeans, and a long-sleeved blouse. Today she decided against any makeup or jewelry. She just didn’t feel like dealing with that whole process right then. The door to their flat opened, and then slammed shut, which gave Aurum pause.

“Dorian?”

This time, there was no response. Aurum frowned deeply and opened her door. Dorian was holding Cullen’s arm, and as soon as he saw Aurum, Dorian shoved Cullen towards her, growling something in Cullen’s ear as he did so. Cullen was an astounding shade of red and couldn’t look her in the eye. Aurum crossed her arms and glared at them both. Dorian just could not leave well enough alone, could he?

“Like I said, stupid question, Aurum. But…would you like to get breakfast?” Cullen mumbled, only after Dorian elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“I have work.”

“I’m covering the shop today. Bull is going to help,” Dorian offered from behind Cullen.

Aurum sighed and reached up to rub the bridge of her nose. Of course Dorian had done this. The first and second attempts had not gone well, so now, of course, was the time for the third.

“Why do you want breakfast, Cullen?”

“I was under the impression I still owed you one. Lunch doesn’t really count as breakfast.”

She laughed drily, despite her discontent at being tricked into this again.

“I am ever so loath to say no to free food. Even if it is being bought by some random asshole.”

Cullen gave her a sheepish smile.

“I am sorry about the Ball. It was my idea-”

“I was purposefully blaming that on Dorian, but if you want to take credit for it, I’m willing to blame you instead.”

“Ah, yes. I-”

“Explain it over breakfast. I want French toast and a mimosa. You know a café that serves that?”

“Ye-es.”

“Good.”

* * *

 

 “So explain it to me, then.”

Aurum and Cullen were seated at an outdoor table, across from each other. Drinks had been ordered, and she was still waiting on making a proper order for her food. She was doing her best to be polite. Cullen was buying breakfast, and she had cooled her temper significantly since their last meeting at the Ball.

“I had not meant that text to come across as it did.”

“Mmm. Explain to me how I could have interpreted your words differently?”

“I…I was going to send another message. Explaining it. I was trying to figure it out. I wanted to say it right, but I, uh, I couldn’t figure it out. I…my words failed me and by the time I had found the courage to message you back, you had taken it poorly.”

Aurum made a small sound of disgust under her breath and shook her head. Maybe she had overreacted, but she would always stand by her words, anyway. There were infinitely better ways for him to express what he had tried to express without starting a conversation the way he did and then never following up.

“You could have tried to explain. Or called. Or come to visit.”

“I thought you had made it rather clear you did not want to speak with me.”

“I thought you had broken up with me, and refused to explain why, or respond to any of my messages or attempt to even come close to being gentlemanly in breaking my heart.”

Their drinks came, and they made their breakfast orders. As Aurum had said she would, she ordered the French toast she had been craving, and asked for extra whipped cream and syrup. She had a sweet tooth to maintain, after all. Cullen ordered something decidedly less obnoxiously sweet, choosing a more traditional breakfast with hashbrowns and eggs and grilled vegetables and some bacon.

“I wasn’t trying to break up with you, though.”

“Mmm. That could have been made a skosh more obvious, don’t you think? ‘I can’t do this. Not anymore.’ Do you know how much I agonized over those words?”

“I would think about as much as I agonized over them, actually.”

Aurum looked up at Cullen sharply, looking for some sort of joke in his words. She was fully prepared to upend the table onto his lap and storm out of here in a storm of swear words and magic. But he met her gaze evenly. Anger colored his golden eyes darkly, and his mouth was thin.

“Really.”

“Do you think I was not aware of how badly I had miss-stepped? That I didn’t regret what had happened? I couldn’t think of how to tell you because…”

“Because I had blown up at you?”

“Yeah, that.”

Aurum sipped her mimosa and leaned back in her chair, thinking.

“So what was it, exactly, that you were trying to say.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out…” Cullen sighed, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck again.

Despite herself, Aurum found herself grinning at the now very-familiar movement. The servers were astoundingly attentive, bringing Aurum another mimosa as soon as she finished her first one. Brunch deals were amazing, especially when they came with unlimited mimosas and French toast. The gentle buzz of drunkenness started in the back of her mind. Cullen gulped at his own drink, and did his best to not look nervous.

“Maybe I have. Maybe I’d have you say it, regardless.”

“Maker, Aurum, you’re killing me.”

“Softly, though.”

Cullen snorted and rolled his eyes at her. Aurum mirrored the movement, and found herself blushing when Cullen made a quick movement to brush his fingers across the back of her knuckles.

“Right. Aurum, I couldn’t pretend. I _wanted_ something more, I wanted the truth.”

“And what truth is that?”

“Aurum, I-I…I want to start over. With us. Not wearing those shirts, mind you. But I want the chance to know you. Really. Really know you. And I’d like to… _be_ with you.”

“Be with me, how?”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands. The waiter brought their orders, Aurum thanked them profusely, and turned to her tooth-decaying monstrosity of a breakfast with gusto.

“Andraste’s tits, you can’t make this easy, can you?”

“You broke up with me over text, and then convinced my best friend to put a lock on my neck so you could come by with the key under false pretenses. Excuse my dramatics, serah.”

Cullen reached across the table to take a gentle hold on her left hand. It would be easy enough to remove her hand from his grasp if she so desired. She didn’t, of course, but the thought was actually quite touching. He was allowing her a way out, a way to escape, if she wanted. That had always been the way things were between them – there was always a way out. He just happened to take one way she had not foreseen becoming a path for them.

“I would be honored if you would go on a proper date with me, Aurum.”

He spoke so _formally_ when he got even the slightest bit flustered. Idly, she wondered if it was to keep his stutter down. If he had to focus on such odd turns of phrase, his tongue could not betray him by wagging and stumbling over words. Aurum said nothing for a while, enjoying her French toast and considering her next words. She had to think for a few minutes. Aurum had been so unbelievably angry at Cullen for what he had done, and to learn that he had meant something else, had meant something else _entirely_ had made her feel…

“Aren’t we on one already?” she asked congenially, smiling at him and tightening her hold on his hand.

“I-I what?”

“Cullen. Come on. After everything you’ve put me through, I’m still here. I wouldn’t be if I wasn’t interested in you.”

“What?”

“Cullen, I would not have been so upset with you acting the way you did if I didn’t actually care. I wanted you for my own, and I didn’t…I didn’t want to hope for something that wouldn’t come.”

“I’d come anywhere if it meant I got to be with you.”

Cullen spoke quickly, his words coming out of him in a heated rush. Aurum blushed all the way to the very tips of her ears and looked away, not certain what she should say to that. It was in the same vein of high praise as what he had given her at the Ball and…well, she had never had someone do that. She had been so mad when she had thought it was a joke, so furious that everyone would try and play her like that. Dorian still definitely deserved to have his eyebrows shaved, but she had it within herself to forgive Cullen.

“Really now?”

“I went to the Ball, Aurum. I _hate_ the Winter Palace. I wore a suit that Dorian picked out and a mask and put up with quite the bit of manhandling to get there. But I wanted to apologize to you in person.”

“Hm. Apology accepted then, Cullen. Is this a bad time to remind you that brunch doesn’t really count as breakfast?”

He laughed, throwing his head back and really laughing. Aurum laughed with him, shaking her head. This whole situation was absolutely ridiculous and it felt really good to laugh at it all. The entirety of the time she had known Cullen had been overshadowed by the

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll still pay for our brunch, and I will look forward to the time when we actually have breakfast together.”

Aurum rolled her eyes, but gestured for him to carry on.

“Maybe this time we’ll make a better go of it. I’d like the chance, at least.”

“I certainly would like that, Aurum.”

She smiled down at the remnants of her French toast and tried not to blush. It was a losing battle. She felt the prickles of the blush across her cheeks and ears.

“Me too.”

“You said that already.”

Her face felt like it was on fire and she ducked down to try and avoid the rising embarrassment of it all. Now he was all smooth and silk, and she was fumbling to find even a word that she could squeak out, and noticing that only made the embarrassment all the worse. She was supposed to be the one in command of her words and all that shit, and right then, she definitely was not. No, she was a stammering idiot trying to find a way to recover. Cullen let her have her long moment of awkwardness before he leaned over the table to plant a kiss in the middle of her forehead.

“I find it endearing, don’t worry Aurum.”

She made a sound of absolute disgust and dropped her head down to the table. This just had to start off awfully, didn’t it?

* * *

 

 “Why are you so _agitated_ Aurum?”

Aurum was pacing back and forth in front of the couch. Dorian was lounging comfortably on the couch, a flawless, beautiful picture. Of course he knew that, and of course he had oriented himself to be postured as beautiful as possible. He regarded her coolly, batting his long, dark eyelashes at her.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Mhm.”

“We’ve been together for nearly a month and a half now, not counting the time we were fake-together.”

“Sounds right.”

Aurum groaned, and chucked a pillow at Dorian’s head. He blocked it with a quick-summoned barrier, and the poor pillow flopped uselessly to the ground.

“He’s been an absolute _gentleman_ this entire time. We go on nice dates, we talk about our histories, I took him to go meet my grandmother – and she _loved_ him.”

“Aurum, you spent about four hours gushing about how Deshanna all but was naming her great-grandchildren under her breath while she fussed over Cullen. I know how Deshanna feels about him.”

Aurum kicked the pillow savagely, sending it flying across the living room to smack into the wall. Again, it flopped uselessly to the ground with a small, sad sound.

“He holds my hand, he opens doors for me and at the same time, he knows I could throw him across the room with my mind if I wanted to. He respects my power and my strength. He is very attentive of my needs and desires in almost **every** imaginable way.”

Dorian sighed and closed his book, resting it on his stomach as he waited for this fit of hers to subside.

“Dear, are you going to make a point sometime soon? You’re interrupting my reading.”

“ _Dorian_ he won’t _fuck_ me and its driving me up the fucking _wall_.”

He sat up so fast that his book fell to the floor, and was so shocked that he did not even try to pick it up, or put it down properly. One of the pages would surely be hopelessly folded over by the end of this conversation, but that was not really his concern.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am! He won’t…Creators I am so done with it! He’s the perfect gentleman and all I want is for him to throw me down on his bed and -”

“I get it, I get it, spare my virgin ears!” Dorian exclaimed, mockingly covering his ears and curling away from her, into the protective fabric of the couch.

Aurum paused, and looked down at her friend. The hickies that stippled his neck and shoulders peeked out from behind the collar of his shirt, not yet covered in concealer. She made certain he saw her staring, and waited for him to self-consciously adjust his shirt so she would not see them anymore. Aurum arched an eyebrow at him and smirked, and Dorian pouted at her.

“Fine, not _entirely_ virgin ears, but my point stands. No more. I get it. Your boyfriend isn’t making you scream your devotions to your pagan gods and you’re growing irritable. Or, at least, more irritable than usual.”

“Fuck you, Pavus.”

“That’s apparently a job your boyfriend doesn’t even want to do.”

Aurum growled, and reached her magic out to grab the pillow. She proceeded to beat Dorian over the head with the pillow for a good long while, until his good-natured laughs turned to real yelps of distress. She was pinning him to the couch with her legs and one hand, and the pillow was raised up overhead, ready to rain down further fluffy terror upon Dorian if he mocked her again.

“Alright, alright, alright! Maker’s breath, you are a right fucking terror with that pillow.”

“Damn straight I am.”

“What do you want me to do about your boyfriend not taking what I’m sure are very obvious hints that you want him to nail you?”

“Help me think about how to make it _obvious_.”

“Have you tried walking past him naked?”

“I – I mean, well _no,_ but I was trying to-”

Dorian shoved her off of him, and Aurum fell dramatically backwards onto the other side of the couch. She sprawled in an ungainly mess, covering her face with both hands to hide her blush.

“Well whatever you were trying isn’t working, so time for something drastic, isn’t it?”

“Cullen would throw his shirt at me if I just showed up at his door naked, Dorian.”

“Fine then, not naked. You’ve been saving that slinky green thing for a special occasion. This is one of those.”

Aurum sighed.

“I was _hoping_ to save that for an anniversary, not waste it just on getting laid, dammit.”

“Well you’re not getting to an anniversary if you don’t get laid, are you?”

She groaned, long and low. Dorian had a point. Aurum was not one to really handle celibacy in a relationship. She liked sex. She liked sex a _lot_ and enjoyed having sex a _lot_. She was willing to wait a few months for someone to warm up to the idea of being in a sexual relationship. Hells, she was even understanding if someone didn’t want a sexual relationship at all. She was _fine_ with that, but she did not stick around those sorts of relationships for too long. Aurum liked sex. It was part and parcel to an intimate relationship to her.

And she probably would not have been so worked up about the non-sex between her and Cullen this early in the relationship if not for one thing:

He had made her cum hard enough to pull lightning out of the sky, and eaten her out with such fervent gusto that she still got a little weak at the knees just thinking about it all these weeks later. She was a red-blooded woman and he had –

She buried her face in a pillow and groaned again. This was awful. And difficult. And she was going to listen to Dorian’s suggestion because she was, yes, that desperate. She wanted Cullen. And she was not too proud to play dirty.

* * *

 

 Cullen was just about to start preparing dinner for himself when he heard a knock at his door. Confused, he checked the time. He was not expecting anyone to come by, not so close to dinner, and especially not without calling first. He lived a pretty solitary life outside of his busy work schedule, and guests that were not pre-announced were very rare. He liked his alone time.

The person knocked again, and Cullen ambled slowly to the door. He was not going to rush to see who it was. They were here at an odd time, so it was not his prerogative to be polite in this moment. He opened his door, well prepared to give a dressing-down to someone if they had disturbed his evening to try and sell him something or try and get him to return to work.

Instead, a slightly damp Aurum looked up at him, a bag thrown haphazardly over her shoulder, and her hair a right mess.

“Hey.”

“U-uh, hi, Aurum. What are you-”

“Our flat got flooded. Someone upstairs left the tub running and got distracted by a errand or some shit. Our stuff is mostly safe, but the landlord said we had to leave while they cleaned it. Dorian is staying with Bull and the wild sex noises have already turned my stomach once. Can I stay here until the damage is repaired?”

“Uh. Yeah, sure, I’ll get some blankets for the couch. You can have the bed?”

Aurum rolled her eyes, but nodded.

“Sorry for not calling. My phone took a lot of water on, and lost. Miserably. I have it sitting in a baggy of rice in my pack. Magic and technology aren’t exactly the best of friends.”

“It’s okay. I understand, really. I was just about to make dinner, would you like some?”

She laughed and threw her bag onto the nearest chair. For a few minutes, she didn’t say anything, just brushed by Cullen into his kitchen, taking stock of what Cullen had lain out to prepare for dinner.

“Of course. I think, eventually, we’ll have breakfast together. But dinner is fine, for now.”

He laughed, and stepped up behind her, placing his hands easily on her hips and resting his chin on her shoulder. Aurum relaxed into his touch, leaning back against him. With the way she had been feeling, even the slightest bit of contact with him was enough to make her heart race. Especially since she had come here with a _plan_. She turned her head so she could press a quick kiss to his cheek, and hummed happily when he tightened his hold on her.

“Well I guess we’ll just have to wait for tomorrow morning to have breakfast.”

Creators, did his voice sound good when it rumbled through her like that. Aurum shivered in his arms and did her level best to not throw herself at him all at once. Cullen was not the sort of man who would respond well to such things. She had to play this with just a little more subtlety or she ran the risk of spooking the poor man. How she had managed to get him to agree to let her sit on his face, but now couldn’t even get him to stick a hand down her pants had Aurum severely wondering if elfroot had a sort of aphrodisiac affect on Cullen. Because _damn_ was he resistant to every other way she had thought about breaching the topic of sex.

Short of taking him by the hand and stating that she wanted sex _now_ , Aurum was fast running out of ideas. She was rather hoping this last idea courtesy of Dorian (whose track record on these things was just awful) would actually work and Cullen would finally drag her back to his room or bend her over the table or push her up onto the counter.

“…Aurum? Are you listening?”

She shook her head, breaking herself out of her reverie.

“Uh, no. Sorry. What was it?”

“Can you chop the onion for me while I prepare the chicken?”

“Oh! Um, yeah. Of course.”

She went to work, mincing the onions with perhaps a little more vigor than entirely necessary. Aurum did not like being caught off guard like that. Sure, she was worked up, and sure, probably more than a little nervous about what she was going to do, but that was no reason to keep spacing out like she kept doing. There were more important things on her mind, yes, but she needed to remain on her toes. She had to be ready for anything, and more importantly –she had to be prepared to do anything.

“There, now all we have to do is wait for it to cook,” Cullen said when they were done, smiling at Aurum.

“How long will that take?”

“Oh, only a few more minutes, I think. No more than twenty, at most.”

“Just enough time for me to shower then. I’d like to get the damp of my waterlogged flat off of me if at all possible.”

Cullen mumbled an affirmative beneath his breath. She knew where his shower was, and he needed to watch their meal so it didn’t burn or scorch. He was perfectly content to do just that until he heard the soft sound of clothing hitting the ground. He turned just in time to see Aurum sauntering away around the corner, her bra dropping from her hand to land artfully on the floor behind her.

He swallowed the knot in his throat, turned the heat on the pan the chicken was cooking in to ‘low’ and followed the rapidly-growing trail of damp clothes. He looked around the corner Aurum had disappeared behind, just in time to see her wiggle out of her panties and kick them to the side. She was as naked as a jaybird, and sauntered into his bathroom without as much as a backwards glance. Moments later, he heard the familiar sound of his own shower turning on. He had to remind himself about the potential for burning the food to keep himself from following after her into the shower.

It would not be proper. He was trying to be a gentleman.

* * *

 

 Aurum stood in the shower and stewed. It, of course, was not going to be easy. She had stripped down and sashayed and Cullen was still in the kitchen, cooking dinner like a good, polite, boyfriend. He was so damned _good_ to her and Aurum _loved_ it. She wanted more, though. She wanted more from him. Selfishly. It was selfish of her, she knew that. But Creators, did she want him. She wanted him to fuck her in the shower, against a wall, on the couch, in his bed.

Groaning, Aurum rested her head on the tiles of the shower and sighed. Aurum did not want to go overboard, but there was only so much niceness from Cullen she could take until she was going to be a whimpering mess curled up on his bed with her fingers desperately working to bring herself the pleasure she desperately wanted Cullen to bring her instead.

Aaaaand now she was thinking about _that_.

“Creators damn it all. All of it.”

She sighed and went back to washing herself up, trying her damndest to stop thinking about what she wanted Cullen to do to her and instead think of ways to entice him to get those things done. How it was this hard, she did not know. But she was determined.

 He heard the shower stop, finally, and breathed a sigh of relief. Now he wouldn’t be thinking about how naked Aurum was. In his apartment. Naked. Showering naked. In his apartment, she was naked.

See, he wouldn’t be thinking about that any more. No, now he could just think about dinner – _and about how all of Aurum’s clothes she had been wearing were on his floor and she definitely had not taken any other clothes into his bathroom_. His breath rushed out of him all at once as the implication reached up and smacked him in the teeth. Aurum was not wearing any clothes, still, and she was going to be coming out of the bathroom soon.

Cullen looked to where she had placed her bag and nearly passed out. She was going to have to come back this way if she wanted to wear **anything**. He bit his tongue to keep from moaning and covered his mouth with a single hand. What should he do? Where should he stand? Was it appropriate for him to still be here? Should he bring her her bag?

“Cullen, my bag, if you please?”

He spun, guiltily dropping his hands behind his back and looking immediately to where Aurum’s voice had come from. That was a mistake.

Aurum was still dripping wet, one of his smallest towels wrapped around her torso. Its entire width barely covered her from the swell of her breast to the bottommost curve of her ass, leaving _so much_ skin exposed and it was so damned tempting to rip that thin thin thin piece of cloth off of her. Because it wasn’t like that towel was hiding anything about her body from his gaze. It clung to her wet body, taunting him with how easy it would be to pull the towel off of her and look upon her naked form again.

He licked his lips.

“Cullen? The bag?”

His hands shook. The bag. She wanted the bag and he wanted to tear that towel off of her and kiss her breathless. Then fuck her. Maker, did he want to fuck her.

She took a step towards him, passing by her bag, reaching out to press a hand to his chest. The rest of her body followed shortly after. Aurum molded her body to his. All at once, there was not enough blood in his body for his brain to still work. Her body was against his, her thighs pressed to his, her chest against his. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him.

“Are you okay, Cullen?”

He was almost certain that he was supposed to respond to that in some meaningful way, but all that he could muster was a half-garbled word that could have been “yes” but was probably closer to a whimpered “fuck”. She smelled like his soap, like his living space, like _him_ , and even though he knew it was an entirely irrational, there was a deep-seated part of him that craved and _needed_ her to never smell any differently than she did right then.

Unless she smelled more like him. Maker she could smell more like him. She had back on the Storm Coast. He had smelled like her, she had smelled like him, and there had been nothing as beautiful as that.

“Cullen, vhenan, come on, what’s wrong?”

 _You’re not in my bed, you’re still in that towel, you called me **vhenan**_ , he thought (not realizing he had spoken aloud), pulling her closer to him, trying to feel every inch of her against his body.

“I did call you vhenan. I meant it too, my heart. If you want me in your bed, and out of this towel, I’m more than willing. Hells, I’ve been trying to get you to drag me into your bed for weeks at this point.”

“what.”

His voice was small. Disbelieving. Aurum smirked up at him and shimmied out of the towel she was wearing, letting it drop to the ground.

“Is the stove off?”

 _The hells is a stove – oh the FOOD_.

He nodded quickly. He had turned everything off. It was ready to be eaten, but there was a better dish in front of him. His mouth watered at the very idea of it, and when Aurum started to walk backwards towards his room, Cullen followed eagerly after her, reaching out to trace his fingers across whatever part of her body he could reach easily. He touched only gently, questioning if this was okay, if she was enjoying it, if she would let him continue, but Aurum would only giggle and dance further away from him, and he would follow after her.

The door to his room was quickly overcome, and Aurum was wiggling backwards onto his bad, laughing as Cullen very ungracefully stripped out of his own clothing. In his rush, he tripped and toppled over, falling to the ground, in an undignified heap. Before Aurum could come to his aid, Cullen had scrambled back to his feet, and shirked the last remaining article of clothing before pouncing on Aurum.

The word ‘pounce’ was not inaccurate to the movement Cullen made.

He wrapped his arms around her and pinned her down to his bed. Aurum squeaked and wrapped both of her arms around him, pulling his face up to hers so she could kiss him. And Creators – _Maker_ did she kiss him, not waiting for him to open his mouth before her tongue was demanding entrance. He yielded before her onslaught, pressing his weight down into hers as she kissed him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling on the curls he could never fully manage to tame. Every time they paused she was arching and whining for him to continue.

“ _Please_ , Cullen,” she begged piteously when he drew away from her.

She tugged on his hair, pulled on his shoulders, tried to entice him back down to where her mouth was pouting and her tongue was twisting. But Cullen remained unmoved, holding himself up over her so he could take a moment to look down at her. Aurum stared at him, her irises more black than blue. Her lips, plump and kiss-bruised already, were slick and she licked them when she saw his gaze dip down to them. He watched her pulse jump in her throat, underneath skin that he had not tasted between his teeth in far too long. Cullen did not recall exactly when he had become accustomed to seeing her flesh dappled with the imprint of his teeth, but now that he could see none of his marks there, he wanted nothing more than to mar her skin all over again.

“Dammit, _Cullen!_ ” she growled, arching her hips up against his. “I have waited patiently for too damn long. You can look at me all you fucking want after you fuck me. Hells, get your phone out and take pictures if you want, but I need you to fuck me _first_.”

He chortled at her desperation, leaning all of his weight over onto one hand so he could slide the other down her body, until his fingers were pressing up against her slick cunt. She babbled something in Dalish he could not hope to translate fast enough to understand, though he was very certain he understood the basic gist of it all. Cullen grinned down at her, wanting to maintain his position above her for as long as possible so he could watch her buck and grind down against his hand.

Cullen thumbed her clit, and pushed two fingers into her. She was so very wet already that his fingers met practically no resistance as they slid up into her. This time, he was the one that was cursing and invoking his particular pantheon.

Honestly, he had intended to spend some time letting his fingers work on her. He had wanted to feel her cum on his fingers before he started _actually_ fuck her, but as soon as he felt how wet she was, how she was already squirming and panting and dripping and whining for him, that whole quickly thought-of plan went right out the window. He was already naked, she was beneath him and already naked, and yes, he definitely wanted to fuck her right now.

“Aurum, can I-”

“Gods preserve me if you are about to ask permission to fuck me, I’m going to set your couch on fire. Yes. Fuck me, right now, thank you for asking but really, just ram your cock into me because I have been _very_ fucking patient and you have been a _huge_ fucking tease.”

He paused, staring down at her.

“I’m the one that was the tease?”

“Yes! With all your damned politeness and gentlemanliness and all the not-fucking-your-girlfriend-ing you were doing.”

Cullen shook his head and stooped low so he could kiss her again. She responded lustfully, pressing as much as her body up against his as she could manage to do from her tactical disadvantage. She trailed one hand up and down and back up his body, dancing over his scars gently, feeling the length and texture of them. Another time, she would trace their entirety with her tongue and lips. Right now, though, there were a few more important matters consuming her thoughts.

Most pressing was the insistent pressure from Cullen’s cock against her hipbone. She bit her lip when Cullen drew away from their kiss and pushed her hips up against his, a silent urging, a desperate plea for more. Cullen, to her frustration, did not oblige her. He huffed at her, and repositioned himself so that he could tease her some more. He rocked his cock up against her dripping cunt, letting them both revel in the movement. Aurum’s teeth clenched as he repeated the motion, slowly, tauntingly dragging a whimper from her mouth.

“C-cullen!” she gasped when the head of his cock pressed against her entrance.

Anticipation seared her, but when Cullen drew away and resumed the teasing slide again. Aurum cursed emphatically, something about him being a son of a cock-teasing _whore_. Usually, he would be very offended by such an accusation being laid upon his mother’s name, but this time, he only found amusement in it. Aurum scrabbled for purchase on his arms, sinking her fingers into the muscle and pulling herself up so she could bite his lip.

“So _help_ me Cullen. So help me I will make you regret it if you don’t fucking _fuck me_ and keep fucking teasing me.”

He smirked at her and repeated the same slow drag of his cock against her cunt, making sure she could feel _everything_ in that slow movement. Aurum cursed ineffectively, gasping something that could have been his name, and Cullen was allowed to revel in his small victory for only a few moments. Aurum snarled at him, and with a startlingly efficient movement, pulled herself up against him. It took only a quick twist of her own hips and the advantage of Cullen’s shock for her to sink down onto his cock.

The abrupt movement drew a sharp sound of surprise out of Cullen, and a pleased moan from Aurum. Her eyes rolled up and she rocked her hips against his. Cullen’s shock wore off almost immediately at that. He eagerly went to work, thrusting into her ( _Maker so tight and hot and slick_ ) as she did her best to work him over the edge. She pulled him down to her so she could kiss his bite-bruised lip, and then kiss his scar and then his cheek and chin before the ability to hold herself up left her.

Cullen pinned her down where she lay, pulling her hands up above her head and holding them there with a single hand. He wanted her stretched out and helpless beneath him, and she obliged him with a long moan. As best she could, she arched her back up, trying to feel more of him without taking her hands from the position they were being held in. He chuckled and turned his head so he could bite the tip of her ear in chastisement.

Aurum wailed, seizing up beneath him and cumming almost shamefully hard. Cullen groaned as her cunt clamped down on him, and kept thrusting, trying to draw out her orgasm for as long as possible while staving his own off for just a little bit longer. He kissed her ear where he had bitten it, soothing the skin there with tender affection, but Aurum only keened the louder, gasping something that could have been his name.

She bucked her hips against him, incapable of anything other than desperate half-movements, and curse breathlessly. Cullen bit back his own curse as Aurum rocked against him. She was lost to the pleasure of it all, incapable of words or anything even closely resembling fine motor movement. She was so delightfully _full_ , her narrow elvhen body not accustomed to a broader, wider, _bigger_ human lover. It was everything she hoped it would be, not that she could articulate that at the moment.

Because every thrust had his cock pressing against a spot deep inside her, and every damn time he hit that spot, she saw stars dance across her vision. Her breath came in ragged pants, and was driven out of her with every forward thrust. Between Cullen’s cock driving into her, her hands pinned above her head and her complete inability to do anything other than _take_ the pleasure he was forcing on her. He wasn’t even actively trying to do anything other than thrust into her and she was cumming harder than she could ever remember doing so before.

Cullen growled something at her, but she was too blissed out to even bother trying to register his words. She just moaned even louder, all of her words lost to the pleasure. Her magic roared beneath her skin, and the added layer of sensation only contributed to the overwhelming _everything_ that was happening. Cullen released her hands, and Aurum still did not move them from where he had been holding them. Honestly, she did not recognize that he had moved his hands until he leaned back away from her and _pulled_ her hips flush to hers. He held her there, pulling her tight to him and not letting her squirm away.

The brutality of the movement left Aurum breathless. It felt like Cullen’s cock was damned near splitting her in two. Breathing was a difficulty. His grip was steel on her hips, and he held her still. Aurum keened, trying to move, trying to stop this particular brand of exquisite torture, and finally Cullen relented. He held her still, and slowly, agonizingly slowly, circled his hips.

Aurum fisted her hands in the sheets above her head and screamed, throwing her head back as another orgasm hit her. Cullen’s hands tightened on her hips harshly enough to leave bruises, but right then, neither of them cared.

He ceased his slow teasing of her, and resumed properly _fucking_ her. Still holding her hips still, Cullen drove into her relentlessly. Every thrust made his blood boil, and he was consumed with the need to keep thrusting, keep thrusting, keep fucking her because she was so wet, so receptive, so much _everything_ that the thought of stopping just then made a furor well up inside of him. He did not want to stop. He never wanted to stop. Never.

Aurum, beneath him, was flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. The sight was damn near hypnotizing. Cullen stared, his lips twisted up in a self-satisfied grin. He thrust, her breasts bounced, and she _gasped_ his name. He thrust, her breasts bounced and she _keened_ , unable to form words. He pulled her legs wide, holding them steady, and thrust again, playing Aurum like an instrument. Every time he changed their position just the slightest bit, the sound she would make as a result was just the slightest bit different.

Her gasps, her moans, her cries and groans, all of them were the sweetest music to him and he ached to hear them all the more but-

But he had not expected Aurum to move. She might not be as strong as he was, but when she decided that she had had enough of him dictating the movements, she effortlessly flipped him onto his back, straddling his hips and pinning him down by the shoulders, all without dislodging his cock from deep inside of her. Cullen made a sound of shocked pleasure at the sudden inversion of their positions, looking up at Aurum with a smile that could have melted the most hardened of hearts.

For just a moment, she stared down at him, her hands on his chest, and his still on her hips. Carefully, she leaned down to kiss him, chaste and gentle despite their earlier actions.

“Ma’arlath, ma vhenan,” she whispered, her voice dropping into Dalish to disguise the sentiment.

“Ma sa’lath, emm’asha,” he mumbled back, his heavy human tongue fumbling over the words.

Aurum whimpered something beneath her breath and kissed him feverishly, trembling from the intensity of it all. She had not thought this to be the right time, did not think that she would ever even consider saying what she had just done, but there seemed, at that moment, to be no better time than _now_ , no better place than _here_ to let herself love him. Truly. Because she did, truly. And he loved her back.

Creators, that alone was enough to send need and desire shooting through her. She leaned back and started riding Cullen properly, sliding up and down on his cock. In this position, his cock filled her differently, and being in control made her all the more keenly aware of that. She started slowly, rising up until Cullen’s cock was just barely inside of her, and then slowly she sank back down onto him. Aurum was lightheaded from the pleasure within moments, her head lolling backwards as she grabbed onto his hips to keep her balance.

Cullen groaned as she continued her slow torture. He reached, hesitantly, for her. Cupping her hip with one hand, his other reached for a slightly more…sensitive target. The pad of his thumb brushed her clit on her next downward movement, and Aurum gasped his name, freezing in place. He smirked up at her, pleased to have gained the upper hand for the moment. Aurum recovered quickly though, snapping her gaze down to his, a small sneer on her lips.

He wanted to play dirty then, did he?

She dug her fingernails into his skin until he hissed in discomfort, and then rode him. Her hands were the only thing really anchoring her as she well and truly _rode him_. He swore at great length, snapping his hips up into her. Aurum never relented her pace, fucking Cullen brutally, never slowing down, not even as Cullen tried to regain control, tried to hold her still, stop her movements. He begged her to be still, to stop because he was going to cum, and he didn’t want to cum just yet. He didn’t want this to be over, he didn’t want to stop just yet, but if she kept doing that he was going to –

“ _Cum_ , Cullen,” she snarled down at him, coupling the command with a harsh clench of her cunt around his cock.

He was powerless to disobey her, and with a shout, he surrendered himself to the pleasure, cumming hard enough to forget to breathe. She did not cease riding him all throughout, not even as he whimpered from overstimulation. No, she kept moving atop him, gasping his name as she felt his pleasure echo through the Fade.

Cullen begged her to stop, because the pleasure was too much, and it was _hurting him_ , but her fingers were dancing across his skin, and magic was flickering behind his eyes and then all at once, the pain was gone and it was all pleasure again as Aurum sighed. He looked up at her.

She was smiling blissfully, shivering atop him, blue-green magic wavering in the air around her. He sighed. She was beautiful. Her hair was in her eyes, she was flushed and panting, and he had never seen anything more stunning than she was in that moment. He was even willing to forgive her use of magic on him because it allowed this moment to continue.

“You are beautiful, emm’asha.”

She looked down at him, shocked still that he had learned enough Dalish to manage that. Cullen beamed up at her, smiling at the thought that he had caught her off guard. He had been in constant contact with Deshanna ever since Aurum had introduced him to her grandmother, and had slowly, slowly, started to learn enough Dalish to startle Aurum. He had done just that and he was ever-so-pleased to have done so.

“You are full of surprises, ma vhenan,” was her soft reply.

She trailed her fingers across the broad expanse of his chest, licking her lips. Aurum shivered, and wiggled atop Cullen’s hips. He reached up and pulled her down, letting her rest on his chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck.

“So says the woman who used magic on me in the middle of sex.”

“Mmm, well I wasn’t done fucking you yet. I waited a long-ass time for you to finally fuck me, and I’m not going to let you stop after only the first round.”

He chuckled, and gave an experimental thrust of his hips. Aurum moaned long and low, rocking her hips back against his, shuddering as Cullen continued.

“Really now?”

“Cullen, you might not believe this, but my flat isn’t flooded. Nor is my phone broken. In fact, there’s a very sexy set of lingerie in my bag that I was going to put on if you kept insisting on not fucking fucking me”

His heart stopped, and he pushed her up so he could look her in the eye. Aurum stared down at him, her eyes wide. She rolled her hips against his, biting her lip as pleasure shot through her.

“Maker, tell me you are joking.”

“No. I am not. I’ve been trying to get you to drag me back to your bed for weeks now. I was trying to be considerate of your hesitance, but it was starting to grate on every last nerve I have.”

He groaned and fit his hands back over the bruises on her hips and he lifted her just ever so slightly off of him. Cullen got his feet underneath him and thrust madly up into Aurum, gritting his teeth and _pounding_ into her. She was still hot and wet and willing and she moaned so sweetly when he did that to her that he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He didn’t want to stop, he was never going to stop if he could help it.

Cullen was half-certain his neighbors were banging on the wall they shared and trying to get him to shut up, but every time he angled his hips like _this_ and thrust like **that** Aurum would curse in Dalish or moan or scream his name and he liked that. He wanted to hear more of it. And he made sure he did.

 He flipped her onto her back again and let her wrap her legs around his waist. That was where they belonged. Her legs belonged around his waist, and his cock belonged inside of her, and her mouth belonged pressed to his. His only moved away from her mouth to press kisses to her throat, leaving a necklace of marks across her throat. Aurum arched up into him, begging for more, tilting her head back to give him better access to her neck and he took it greedily.

He thrust into her and slipped his mouth down to bite her collarbone. Aurum gasped and buried her hands in his hair, urging him to do more, do that _again_ , and he obliged lustfully, licking and sucking the skin over her clavicle. Cullen moved lower, still thrusting into her, still enjoying every last sound and movement she made. He dipped his head lower, and caught one of her nipples in his mouth for just a moment.

The other, he pinched with his fingers, rolling it between his callused fingertips. He bit her breast none too gently, leaving marks there as well. Aurum moaned, pushing his face down, arching her back up, smothering Cullen with her breasts, urging him to keep doing that, please keep doing that. He could find no reason to do anything other than what she was begging for him to do. Aurum keened her adoration of him as he left deep purple bruises over her skin, clawing at his shoulders, leaving welts in the wake of her pleasure.

Cullen never stopped fucking her through it all. He groaned her name into her flesh, trying to brand this memory, this moment, this action into his memory for all of eternity. Even if he knew that they were going to keep having sex, even if he knew that, he never wanted to forget this moment – the first time he ever got to truly experience her. It was a moment of wonder and beauty and _fuck_ she was beautiful covered in love-bruises.

She writhed beneath him, chanting his name on every breathy exhalation, her voice ragged, broken over the anvil of pleasure. His rhythm was unrelenting, and he moved her as he pleased. Aurum was helpless beneath him, and she reveled in every moment of it. Cullen groaned something into the valley of her breasts, and Aurum was too far gone to her pleasure to hear him.

Aurum did not know when one orgasm ended and the next began, nor could she begin to fathom herself as separate from Cullen. Her body was his, and his was hers. She began and ended within him.

It was hard to breathe. She was overwhelmed by sensation, drowning in the steady roll of his hips against hers, suffocating in the press of his lips against hers. Aurum threw her head back and moaned in tandem with Cullen as he came inside of her once again. She trembled beneath him, not entirely back in her own skin just yet. He pinned her hips down to the bed and loomed over her again, staring down at her breathlessly, stilling himself above her. Aurum blinked and looked up at him. His lips quirked and she sighed wistfully at the sight. He leaned down to kiss her.

“Cullen, vhenan. What is it?” she breathed, reaching up to trace her thumb over his scar.

“I love you, Aurum.”

“I-I…”

The common tongue failed her sometimes. It was easy to say the words in her milktongue, it was easy to breathe them out, to curl her tongue around them, to mean them with conviction. But the common language of Thedas, even after growing up bilingual, it sometimes did not translate her intentions well enough.

Cullen looked crestfallen when she did not reply immediately. He withdrew from her, taking his warmth and weight from her. Aurum moved to intercept him, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him back to her. He nearly collapsed into her, and Aurum groaned, curling into his body, pushing him onto his bed and forcibly cuddling him.

“Vhenan, _vhenan_ , look at me.”

She turned his head towards her, but he did not meet her gaze right away. Aurum nuzzled the side of his neck, kissing over the few marks she had given him.

“Cullen, I love you, too. I do. Ma vhenan, ma ar’lath. My heart. Now pull up the blankets, I’m cold.”

He chuckled, pressed a kiss into her hair, and buried her in his blankets. Aurum gave a contented wiggle of her over-taxed hips, stole a pillow from his side of the bed, and happily went to sleep in the arms of her boyfriend. As far as faking things went, this was a better resolution than she could have ever hoped for otherwise.

* * *

 

[You know, the shirts _were_ a stupid idea.]

[[To be fair, dear, you weren’t supposed to end up falling in love with Cullen. I just wanted to see how you’d react.]]

[Then why even bother with him at all?]

[[Bull said he hadn’t had a girlfriend in a while and that he was easy to trick. Seemed as good a reason as any else.]]

[You’re stupid.]

[[You’re welcome, Aurum.]]

[Yea, yea, thanks Dorian.]

Aurum threw her phone to the side before she could see Dorian’s smug response. It didn’t matter what the other had to say in response. She stretched, momentarily, in Cullen’s bed, relishing the feel of his sheets on her skin, before rolling out of his bed and languidly throwing on the nearest available shirt. Cullen was making breakfast – she could already smell it, and her stomach gave a anticipatory grumble. Idly, she patted her tummy, meandering through his bedroom, then to the kitchen.

“Morning, vhenan,” she grumbled, reaching out to wrap her arms around his waist.

“Morning, Aurum.”

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Last night’s dinner. We never managed to get back to it, I realized.”

She hummed, running her fingers over his chest, pressing a kiss to his neck again.

“That still doesn’t count as breakfast, you know.”

“I do. I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” he said, a half-spoken question in his words.

For a moment, Aurum was silent behind him, considering his words carefully. It seemed odd to her, that she would still be concerned with how to respond to that, especially given their confessions of love to each other, but she still relished the moment. It was not quite a ‘move in with me’ but it was definitely ‘please stay longer’ and she could handle that.

“I guess I can do that. Dorian doesn’t need a flatmate bothering him right now, what with Bull around.”

Cullen laughed.

“Good. I was so looking forward to that lingerie you mentioned, anyway.”

“ _Were_ you now?” Aurum purred at him.

The tips of his ears went red, and with a giggle, Aurum stood up on her tiptoes to kiss first one ear, then the other. Creators, it was still enchanting when he blushed like that.

“Very well then. After our reheated dinner, I’ll show you what I brought to make sure my boyfriend would fuck me proper after all this time."


	7. BONUS ONE: Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I Literally Cannot. 
> 
> We'll count this the first "Bonus Chapter". Let me know if you guys want to see anything in particular for these two idiots. I'm up for writing more smut, and in fact have other things planned for them, but I'm open for suggestions. 
> 
> Because apparently I really do have no ability to stop.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Aurum chanted as she rushed through Cullen’s apartment. Her hair was a mess, and she was half into the lingerie she had planned to wear for her boyfriend.

Cullen peeked his head out of his room, holding a sheet around his waist. She had told him to wait for her on his bed and he had been most accommodating to that command. Then again, it was not hard to convince him to do something as easy as “lay down and wait for your girlfriend to come back to you wearing something slinky and sexy and then fuck her”. It was a task he relished, actually. The idea of it had made him nearly faint with pleasure, and now, it seemed, something was not going according to plan.

“Aurum?”

“Shit, shit, shit! Sorry Cullen, there’s an emergency at work. I have to get going now. Apparently Dorian and Bull – _shit_ , it doesn’t matter, I just have to go, alright? I’ll make it up to you later, I promise – I just have to go. I’ll text you when I get to work, okay?”

Aurum was dressed messily, her collared blouse half on, riding up high enough for him to see the sheer green fabric she was wearing beneath her shirt and the suggestion of some sort of garter belt peeked out from above the top of the black pleated skirt she had put on, and he _knew_ she didn’t wear pantyhose because her skirt rode up and he could see the suspenders clasping on to the top of her stockings.

His knees went weak. Whatever she was wearing beneath that blouse and knee-length skirt, he wanted her in his bed in it. He wanted her stretched out beneath him in it, and he wanted nothing less than a full picture album full of pictures of her in it.

Cullen could only watch as she adjusted her skirt, pulling it down to cover her stockings and suspenders, and then fixing her blouse. He caught the barest hint of black lace as she turned around to face him and fumble with the last few buttons on her pale blue blouse and his mouth went absolutely dry. Aurum darted forward just long enough to plant a kiss on his cheek, and he was not fast enough to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back to bed. He could only watch, breathless and aching as she turned sharply on her heel (her skirt flared up and he could just barely catch the slightest hint the very top of her stockings) and rushed out of his apartment.

He sagged against the doorframe and tried to will his vision straight. Aurum was gone, and he was left standing in a sheet in his suddenly very empty apartment with a cock that was painfully hard for the want of Aurum. Cullen covered his mouth with the hand he wasn’t using to hold his sheet up around his waist and tried his very best to recite the Chant of Light. It worked well enough until he heard the sudden revving of her motorcycle from far below him and was reminded that she was still wearing a _skirt_ and _lingerie_.

“Fuck _me_ ,” he snarled under his breath, grabbing his phone and waiting for her to tell him she was safely at work.

* * *

[I’m here. Dorian and Bull managed to forget to mention that today is the day that Varric Tethras was coming in for another book signing. The store is swamped, and the back is an absolute mess.]

Aurum sent the message a little belatedly, having been swept up in the chaos of the store. She was only now looking over the absolute mess that was the back room. Dorian and Bull had not been particularly concerned with how they had placed all the books, and the dusty back room had seen better – _cleaner_ days, for a certainty. She placed her phone on a nearby stack of books and went to work, trying to pick out anything that needed to remain in the store, and separate them from the books that they could possibly donate or put on sale.

This was usually something done once a year, but with Varric in the store, there was more demand for books that they did not usually sell from patrons who simply wished to buy _something_ for the well-known author to sign. She put a box near the door, and started organizing the book piles.

Her phone buzzed, indicating that Cullen had responded to her message, and Aurum contented herself with organizing at least one of the piles of books, and nudging the box out of the door for Bull or Dorian to take the book in the box and restock the shelves as they emptied. When she was satisfied with her work, she looked to her phone, curious as to what her boyfriend would say. She definitely needed to apologize to him for leaving so abruptly, regardless.

She unlocked her phone’s security screen and checked the message from Cullen. Her phone indicated that it was a picture message, which got her attention, and when she finally opened the message, she had to sit very quickly on the nearest sturdy-looking pile of books.

[[You left without me being able to say a proper goodbye, vhenan.]]

It was not the endearment that caught her so off-guard, but the attached picture – Cullen, leaning back on the bed they had spent the night together in, shirtless and _definitely_ pantsless, the head of his cock just barely peeking into the picture. It was barely indecent, only the slightest bit improper, but it was absolutely salacious, regardless. When her shock faded, Aurum bit her lip and debated about whether she should reply or not, or if she did reply, how she should do so.

[You seem to be missing more than just me, emma mi.]

After a moment of thought, she sent another message.

[Not that I’m complaining, mind you.]

She certainly did not want Cullen to think that she was asking him to stop. In fact, she would strongly prefer for him to continue. This was…well it was frustrating, and a hell of a tease from the boyfriend she had been convinced could only manage to tease her by sheer bullheaded ignorance of what he was doing to her. This was an entirely different matter.

His next message was a simple selfie, of him smirking at her. Aurum huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes, knowing he couldn’t see her.

She sent him a picture of her sticking her tongue out, and then went back to work, organizing books and taking back the empty box to refill it again. Her phone buzzed a few times, and Aurum had to resist the urge to check it immediately. It was actually necessary for her to work, after all, but she could not deny the deep thrill that went through her.

Aurum waited to check her phone until the box was full and shoved out the door again. She bit her lip and breathlessly looked over the litany of pictures Cullen had sent her.

“Oh, sweet Creators.”

Cullen had no clothes on, so what the progression of pictures showed was not so much a strip tease but a delightful catalogue of just about every goddamned inch of his body. He guarded his chastity with a careful curl of the bedsheets across one hip, and that was shockingly more of a tease than Aurum would otherwise care to admit.

The first picture in this set was much the same as initial picture – Cullen, stretched out on his red sheets, smiling up at the phone, back arched invitingly, and his unoccupied hand sliding down his body, out of frame. His hair was an unruly mess, which was just _fantastic_ , and there was the barest hint of a blush on his cheeks. Aurum lingered on the picture, tracing every curve and dip and outline of his body with her eyes, and just once, with a gentle brush of her finger down the curve of his hips. Aurum bit her lip and rubbed her thighs together, trying and failing to keep from letting her arousal overwhelm her.

She flipped to the next picture and cursed beneath her breath. The picture was angled lower, the sheet still covering his dignity, but that certainly did not stop his hand from nestling beneath the sheet, leaving Aurum to swallow the sudden knot in her throat. Oh, she had chosen so very well when she had decided to continue to pursue Cullen. Even if his blush was creeping further down his chest, even if she could practically taste his unsureity in the picture, she wanted this picture forever seared into her mind.

The next picture made her squirm and come dangerously close to wanting to leave work far, far too early. Cullen had one hand wrapped around his cock and even though the picture was taken from an odd angle, and the blush had spread nearly down to his navel, it was clear that Cullen was in the process of demonstrating just _who_ he was missing.

Oooh, she was going to have to try and get back at Cullen for this.

[You know, you are playing dirty.]

[[Try and stop me.]]

Aurum snorted, checked that she was still relatively alone in the back of the shop and hastily undid the first two buttons of her blouse, pulling the collar to the side to expose some of those lovely dark bruises Cullen had left on her skin, along with the very top of her _very_ sheer and lacey underthings. Unlike Cullen, Aurum was well-skilled in the art of taking cellphone snapshots of herself, and managed to catch the dim light of the back room on her flesh in such a way that made the shadows play alluringly across the curve of her neck, her collarbone, her jaw and cheek.

If he wanted to play this game, then they would very well play.

* * *

Cullen wished he had not started this little game.

Oh, that wasn’t true in the least, but the thought was still there. Because Aurum decidedly did not play fair. The opening salvo had belonged to him, and he had almost considering resting on his laurels for getting such an astounding jump on Aurum, but –

Well she did not like to lose, he knew that.

The first picture had been a teasing view of what her lingerie looked like, with the added allure of those delightful bruises he had left up and down her chest. He was still trying to figure out what his response to that should be when the next message should be. Cullen, incidentally, had completely forgotten that mages had a little more flexibility when it came to certain things, but the next message reminded him _very_ quickly.

Aurum had hiked her skirt up, flipping the hem up just high enough for him to see the curve of her ass, the suspender connected to her stocking and the barest _barest_ hint of green from her other…underthings. The angle was far too wide for her to have taken it with her own hands, and Cullen was quick to disregard the idea that Dorian had helped her take that picture, because Dorian would not have put the focus where it was.

His phone beeped at him, alerting him that there was a new message waiting for him. Cullen took a deep breath, kicked the sheet off of him and sent a quick prayer to the Maker to help him get through this. He bit his lip and whimpered when he saw the next photo. He took his cock in hand because there was nothing else he could think of as Aurum’s return salvo gained fervor.

* * *

The next picture was her smiling, her tongue peeking out between lips that were definitely a few shades darker than he remember them being that morning. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright with mischief.

[Do you want to keep playing this game, serah? Or will you admit defeat?]

His response was a shakily-shot picture of his hand wrapped around his cock. No words accompanied it, and it looked as if it had been taken in a hurry.

She smirked to herself, pleased to have gotten that reaction. Then again…the longer she looked at it, the more the picture felt less like a victory and more like a challenge. Aurum looked around at the state of the back room, trying to figure out how much more work she would have to do to allay Dorian’s suspicion about her work habits so she could continue this delicious tête-à-tête without any undue interruptions.

Quickly, quickly, quickly, she worked, organizing books faster than she had ever worked before, pushing them closer to the door so that she could keep what appeared to be a constant work rate up while still managing to have the time to –

Her picture response to his shitty, shitty photo was another magic-assisted one, Cullen could tell. There was no other way to get everything that was in the picture, in the picture, with the length of Aurum’s arms what they were. But he was not going to complain. She had her hands pressed up against the wall, her back arched down, and ass up. Her bright blue eyes were looking at him from over her shoulder, and with how she had positioned herself, he could again see the tops of her stockings, and the suspender straps that traced down the back of her legs. Nothing more than that though.

Maker, there did not need to be anything more than that. He fumbled to find a way to respond, but his phone was already chiming again.

Aurum had her back pressed against the wall, the buttons of her blouse undone, a sly smirk on her lips and one hand pulling her blouse to the side, letting him see the sheer emerald fabric that she had been hiding from him. Cullen’s heart nearly stopped at the unfairness of it all. She had all these extra ways to drive him up the wall and he couldn’t do anything about it!

Huffing, he typed out a text one-handedly –

[[Yu arent playnig fair, Auurm]]

[You seem to be enjoying it.]

The next picture was her, sitting atop a pile of books, her legs crossed demurely at the knee, and her skirt hiked all the way up, covering only her panties and garter belt, leaving Cullen with what suddenly looked like miles and miles of long elvhen legs to stare at. He ached to touch her, and run his fingers across the gauzy fabric she had decorated herself in. For him. For _him_ , before being called away.

His response was a brief video, focused entirely on the movement of his hand over his cock, and the ways his muscles jumped in time with the pumping of his hand. Aurum watched, and rewatched, and rewatched the video, entranced by the movement. Creators, the things she wanted to _do_ to him.

[You really seem to be enjoying it.]

[[Come back home to me and I’ll show you how much.]]

The thought was certainly tempting. She had her work done, and she could easily make an excuse to go home, since she was not technically meant to be in at work today, and her presence here was merely out of politeness. But it was the _principle_ of the matter. And, perhaps, the fact that she did not particularly relish the idea of riding her motorcycle in this state. And perhaps, she wanted to continue playing this game.

She checked the door, nervously licking her lips, trying to judge if the door was closed enough for her for her to try something a little more risqué…

Cullen’s phone chimed with the next photo. He checked the image, cursed, and jumped out of his bed, cursing up a fucking storm.

[Come _here_ , instead.]

Aurum was sitting on a pile of books, her legs spread wide and her fingers slick with her arousal. Her blouse was undone and her skirt was hiked high on her hips. She had parted her lower lips for the photo, giving Cullen a wonderful view of where, exactly, she intended him to come. He could see her still in his mind’s eye, her head thrown back in ecstasy, a blush high on her throat and he, oh he wanted her. Oh he was going to have her. Right now. Right fucking now.

* * *

Aurum frowned at her phone, confused as to why Cullen was not responding any more. Had she gone too far? She considered sending a message to him, asking if he was okay, and went about fixing her blouse and her skirt, trying to get her blood to cool enough so that she could get to finishing up organizing the last few books and shove the box out of the door one last time before she started getting ready to head back home.

The door to the back room flung open, hitting the wall with a crash loud enough to make her jump nearly completely out of her skin. Her barrier sparks into existence instinctively, and for a moment, she is young again, young and protecting someone – some _thing_ so much more valuable than herself against the dangers of the world around her. The moment passed, and she blinked, her barrier fading. Cullen was standing in the doorway, hair mussed and clothes just barely capable of being called “on”, staring at her like she was a lamed halla, and he…that lion he was so fond of.

His lips hit hers with the force of a hurricane, and he forced her back against the nearest wall, his hands slamming into the wall nearly hard enough to crack the drywall. His passion was soon matched with hers, and Aurum hooked a leg around his hip, grinding up against him needily, gasping into his mouth when he pushed her hands away from his shoulders and pinned them up above her head.

“Fucking cocktease of a woman,” he snarled against her lips.

Aurum giggled, and then bit his lip in retaliation. He growled lowly at her, a warning that she promptly ignored completely.

“Took you goddamned long enough, vhenan,” she snapped back with an accompanying sharp jerk of her hips against him.

“Long enough?” he parroted.

He reached between them, his hand reaching up her skirt to press against her absolutely soaked-through panties. Aurum gasped, throwing her head back and grinding herself against his fingers, which were quick to retreat before she could eke any true friction out of the movement. She whimpered, pouting up at Cullen in mock-anger.

“ _Long_ enough?”

His hand traced down her ribs, feeling out the impression of the lace of her lingerie through her blouse, tugging on the buttons he was definitely going to rip right the fuck off this stupid blouse to get at what was underneath. Not right now though. Not right yet. Aurum whined at the lack of _proper_ touching, arching her back into him, trying to urge him to move, to do _something_ because this was starting to be very _irritating_.

“Oh, Aurum thinks it took me long enough to come down here, does she? Thinks she should have me come running at her beck and call?”

“Mmnph, to be _fair_ , you have been chasing me around for quite a while, Cullen. What’s a little more? Just a little further, back to my apartment.”

She tugged one of her hands free to gently cup his chin, smiling up at him. Cullen stared at her for a moment, looking down at her with his mouth agape. His pupils were wide, nearly completely consuming his entire iris and he looked at her breathlessly. Aurum held his gaze unflinchingly, arching her back invitingly. Cullen growled and wrapped one hand around her thigh, pulling it higher on his hip, and then reached with his other hand in between them, fumbling with his button and zipper fly.

Aurum froze up against the wall, breathless with anticipation. Was he really going to-

He pushed his hand up against her dripping cunt, nudging her panties to the side and then slid the head of his prick up against her. Aurum shivered in anticipation, rocking her hips against the nearly-there intrusion, breathlessly whispering “ _yes_ ”. Cullen groaned, falling forward, pressing himself up against her.

“Shit, _Aurum_ , we shouldn’t – not _here_ ,” he muttered into her hair, not for the barest moment ceasing the rocking of his hips against hers, and the slide of his cock against her cunt.

“Someone could walk in, Dorian and Bull are going to come look for us,” she whispered back, pulling him closer to her.

She loved the press of his body against hers, the feeling of being nearly overwhelmed by his weight against her body. Aurum desperately _wanted_ in that moment, needing, craving, desiring Cullen, even if it was a bad idea given their current position in the store where she worked. That did not stop him from slo-o-o-owly pressing his cock into her, relishing the feeling of finally being inside of her again.

Aurum gasped, throwing her head back against the wall and biting her lip to try and keep quiet. She did not think Dorian would be too surprised if he walked in, but as close as the two of them may be, she did not particularly relish the thought of him seeing her and Cullen fucking over the books they worked with. The thrill of maybe being caught, of having to rush, of needing to be quiet when all she wanted to do was take the entire day with Cullen, taking Cullen in every possible way, all of it together made her whimper for him to continue.

“Cullen, _please_ , please please please.”

He withdrew from her slowly, as if every centimeter he pulled away from her caused him physical pain. Aurum moaned at the loss of him, driving her hips back down onto his cock. Cullen cursed emphatically beneath his breath and thrust back up into her, just once more, just to try and feel her again before they had to stop. He braced his forearm on the wall above her head and leaned into her, his breathing harsh and ragged. It was too much.

Not enough.

“Aurum, we have to-”

Again, he started to draw away, trying to do what was _right_ and _stop_ because this was a bad idea that could very easily turn into the sort of embarrassment he did not want this early in the morning. They should just go back to her place, or his, or at least somewhere that wasn’t where someone could _literally_ walk up behind them right now.

And **again** , she kept her leg hooked around his hips, using that leverage to sink herself back down onto him.

Cullen’s thrust was instinctive, a reaction that he could not help. This time, when he drew away from her, it was a deliberate drag that heralded the next thrust. Aurum gasped appreciatively, clutching his shoulders and rolling her hips against his. Cullen bit her shoulder to hold himself steady and she bit her lip to keep herself quiet. Cullen grunted his pleasure into her skin, pressing her back against the wall with the hand he wasn’t using to brace himself, trying to hold her steady and still and _upright_ enough for them to continue. Because there was no way in hells that he was going to stop now that they had started. It was delicious to have her like this.

“I’m going to take you home after this, Aurum. I’m going to take you home and utterly wreck you,” Cullen snarled into her shoulder, sliding his hand up her skirt to grab her ass. “I’m going to destroy you for anyone else. Because you’re _mine_. You’re fucking _mine_.”

Aurum gasped his name, throwing her head back against the wall again, with a loud enough sound to get Cullen’s attention. Cullen pulled her away from the wall, cradled her head in his hand protectively, and kissed her. His teeth knocked against hers with every desperate thrust, but she didn’t care. She just wanted. Needed. Burned for him. She didn’t need to tell him that she did though. He knew. He knew, and he relished it.

“Maker, _Maker_ , fuck, A-hauhrum!” he moaned as he came, surrendering himself to the illicit pleasure of it all.

Her response was a startled groan when Cullen brushed her leg off his hip and stepped away from her. She nearly fell to her knees, but managed to catch herself on the wall. Her legs felt like jelly, and she stared at Cullen in disbelief. He…he had stopped before she could cum. He had stopped, and was zipping his pants back up.

“C-cullen, what?” she stammered, her arousal making it hard for her to parse what questions burned her throat.

He reached for her hips, and while she breathlessly anticipated a return to their previous activities as his fingers brushed up against her aching, dripping, _empty_ cunt, he merely adjusted her panties back to their previous position, and then helped her straighten the hem of her skirt. Aurum arched into his every touch, her brain too fried on pleasure to understand what was going on. Cullen even reached up to adjust the collar of her blouse to lie properly.

“I’m going to let you think about just _what_ you were doing all the way back to your place, Aurum. Come on.”

He held a hand out to her gallantly, and she took it without hesitation. Cullen guided her gently through the bookstore, keeping them away from the majority of customers. Not that the customers were paying them much mind at all, what with Varric Tethras being in attendance, so they managed to make a pretty easy escape.

Aurum stumbled along after Cullen, breathless and aching with want.

“Cullen, please?”

She wasn’t certain what her question actually was, but Cullen smirked and pulled her close to him before pushing her up against the side of his car. Aurum gasped, and opened her mouth to say something more, to ask him to do something, to say _something_ , but Cullen circumvented that by slanting his mouth across hers. He kissed her senseless, crowding up against her until there was no part of her that was not singing for his touch, his breath, his smell to be rubbed into it, and then he left her again, sagging against the door of his car, blinking and trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

“Get in the car, Aurum. We’ll go back to your place and I’ll finally get to see your room.”

“But-”

“Nope. You were a fucking tease and now you’re going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“My bike-”

“Will be there in the morning.”

“But-”

“Car, Aurum.”

She scrambled to comply, throwing the door open to the vehicle and sitting very fast. She fumbled with the seatbelt, trying to move as fast as possible and only managing to trip over herself in her haste. Cullen shook his head and moved far more leisurely to the other side of the car. Aurum sat, squirming, in the passenger seat, trying her best to not throw herself at Cullen as he began the too-long (so long, so very far) drive back to her and Dorian’s flat.

Her hands wandered up her skirt, instinctively seeking a way for her to bring the pleasure to herself that Cullen was denying her, but he reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. She snapped her attention up to him, breathlessly waiting for him to _do_ something now that his own hand was so very close to where she wanted it, but he smiled and kept his attention on the road, driving the car, and driving Aurum up the wall. Desire and need were burning her from the inside out.

“Cullen, vhenan, _please_?”

“Not until we get back to your flat and I have you all to myself. And then I’m going to take you to pieces with my fingers and tongue and cock and when I’m _done_ , I’m going to let you sleep it all off before I start all over again.”

“That’s not _helpful_ , you _asshole_ ,” Aurum snapped, rubbing her thighs together to try and relieve some of the tension building up in her.

That, of course, did not work in the slightest, only edged her further into desperation. Cullen did not help when he smirked and reached his hand down to gently caress her thigh. Aurum’s leg jumped, and he pushed her leg back down. He gently brushed his fingers higher up her thigh, until he felt the stocking give way to flesh. It was there that he started rubbing small circles, gently, gently, gently. Aurum tried to push his hand away, and then tried to pull it closer to where she _actually_ wanted him to touch, but Cullen was unmovable.

Slowly, teasingly, his fingers danced small, intricate patterns across her skin. Aurum whined and wriggled, trying to force Cullen to do something other than just gently touch her.

He didn’t. He drove, one hand almost all the way up her skirt, smiling confidently. Aurum was breathless within moments, squeezing her thighs together, arching her back, trying to get more touching, trying to get friction or something out of this because she was being slowly driven out of her fucking mind. Cullen pulled her leg towards him, and Aurum quickly moved to spread her legs wide.

“My, _my_ , Aurum. So desperate already?” he purred jokingly at her and she had to remind herself that he was driving and it was a bad idea for her to lean over and put her mouth between his legs to show him just how fucking desperate she was.

But Cullen did nothing more than he had been doing before, his fingers gently tracing out letters and symbols that Aurum could not focus long enough on to identify. She threw her head back and whimpered, grabbing onto his arm and trying to tug his hand again. It didn’t work, he kept laughing beneath his breath and Aurum could not find it within herself to curse at him anew.

His fingers finally started venturing higher up her leg, inching so very slowly closer to where Aurum wanted his fingers. His words from mere moments before echoed in her ears. Take her to pieces, he had promised to take her apart with his fingers, and his mouth and his cock, and if she was going to die, she wanted to die like this. She felt like she was going to fall apart and he wasn’t even touching her yet but he was _going_ to and the anticipation was going to break her down into dust.

“Looks like we’re here, dear.”

Cullen withdrew his hand, and Aurum sagged against her seatbelt, a strangled sound ripped out of her mouth. He parked his car, and turned it off, smiling to himself in a way that stoked her anger more than anything else.

“Oh my gods, Cullen, you absolute co-”

He turned on her, pinning her to the seat while his other hand dove beneath her skirt. He pushed her panties to the side and plunged two fingers into her. Aurum moaned, long and low, her hips instinctively jerking up against his hand, searching for more pressure, more touch, more pleasure, more _anything_ , but Cullen pulled himself away as fast as he had swooped in on her.

“Come on then, to work.”

He exited the car and Aurum trembled.

* * *

“Door Aurum, the door, you have to unlock it,” Cullen gasped.

She had him backed up against the door of her and Dorian’s flat, crowding into his space, her magic dancing ice and lightning across his skin. Her hands were in his hair, pulling his chin up and away from his chest so she could wedge her face up against his neck and start leaving deep, dark bruises up and down his throat.

“ _Maker_ , Aurum, unlock the _door_.”

There was a sound of a click, and the door opened. Cullen stumbled backwards, and Aurum pressed her advantage, pushing him into her flat, kicking the door shut behind her. She started to tug at his shirt, trying to pull it away from him while pushing him closer to her room, to get him out of the stupid fucking clothes so they could get _on_ with it, but Cullen was faster than she anticipated. He spun her, pulling her off-balance, pushing her forward, and then catching her before she could trip over her own feet. He grabbed her wrists and held them over her head.

“I have half a mind to take you right here Aurum. Push you up against that wall right there and fuck you until Dorian comes home and sees us there.”

Aurum stilled, looking up at Cullen with eyes that were damned near completely black with desire.

“Cullen, please…” she whispered, her voice so very small in her throat.

“Please, what?” he whispered back, pulling her closer to him, overwhelming her with his presence.

Her lip trembled and her eyes went glassy. Cullen felt her weight drop as her knees wobbled, and was very careful to make certain he had a good enough grip on her to keep her upright. She collapsed forward into him, curling into his body, seeking support, seeking his touch, seeking anything other than words from him because she was –

“I-I _want_ you.”

Cullen smiled down at her. His scar twisted and crinkled with the movement and Aurum sighed. He just couldn’t make this easy. He had to gloat, had to press and prod to try and make her seem more wanton than she actually was. He wanted her to stroke his ego or something.

Well if he insisted upon being a right prat, she could oblige by being one right back.

Aurum knew the layout of her flat like the back of her hand, and it did not take much to figure out how to extricate herself from Cullen’s grasp. She feinted a stumble to the left, and when Cullen reacted to keep her from falling, her body was firm steel and she **twisted** , sending him tumbling onto the couch. Her magic followed him, sent on its way by a desire that burned her chest with such intensity she was surprised that the lace of her underthings had not burst into flame.

He found himself, in a dizzying turn of events, pinned down to her couch, held in place by shimmering pale blue barriers. Aurum stood over him, a feast for his eyes in her rumpled outfit. Her hair was mussed, her eyes deep pits of black desire, and she was flushed.

“Aurum?”

“Hush, you. You’ve had quite enough time to taunt me, now I’m going to return the favor.”

His stomach dropped. His cock, on the other hand, struggled against the confines of jeans, and he ached for the ability to palm himself, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move at all, and she was standing over him, smirking down at him, licking her lips.

 _Oh Maker, oh Andraste, oh **fuck**_.

She stood over him, her legs on either side of his own, her knees pressed against his. Aurum swayed her hips back and forth, slowly pulling her skirt’s hem up. He already knew what was underneath that skirt, he already knew what most of her lingerie looked like, thanks to those fucking pictures she had sent him, but it was still taunting because he could not touch her, and she was slowly, slowly, slowly pulling her skirt higher so he could see the top of her stockings and the suspenders that held them up. He was breathless with want, and he shuddered, pulling against the restraints that held him back.

Aurum let her skirt fall back to its full length, hiding the few tantalizing inches of skin he had been allowed to see. Cullen gasped, arching against the bonds that held him down in a vain attempt to get her closer to him.

“Hmm, what? Do you want to touch me?”

Cullen nodded emphatically, tensing his muscles and pulling _hard_ against the barrier that was holding him back. Aurum smiled indulgently down at him and slid into his lap. She leaned away from him, and started to unbutton her blouse, slowly.

The first button came undone, and she pulled her collar to the side, displaying the hickies that Cullen had given her. She let her head fall back, and Cullen choked on her name, pulling hard enough on the barriers holding him back to make Aurum flinch with shock. He was Templar once, she knew that, but he had not been taking lyrium, and shouldn’t be able to affect her magic, but he _was_.

Aurum needed to distract him, hoping that that would keep him from trying to struggle against her barriers. She settled for grinding herself against him, rocking her hips forward. His mouth dropped open and he moaned loudly, struggling against the barriers again. Aurum felt them give just the slightest bit more, and gasped. Oh, this was wonderful. She continued grinding against him, kissing and licking his neck. Cullen groaned throatily, offering his neck to her willingly, shuddering under her ministrations.

“Vhenan,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his neck.

The barriers shattered, and Cullen was on her. He ripped her blouse open, sending buttons flying through the air, and before she could react, he surged up, picking her up and standing in one massive movement. Aurum wrapped her legs around his waist and reciprocated his hungry kiss with fervor. Cullen moaned into her mouth and pinned her up against a wall, pulling her blouse away from her, throwing it over his shoulder. Aurum pulled at his shirt, trying to feel his skin against skin, and was summarily denied.

Cullen pressed up against her, kissing her hard and desperate. He grinded up against her, rasping her delicate skin with the rough fabric of his jeans and Aurum did not even care. She gasped into his mouth and he pressed her into the wall harder. The bruises would be healed by morning. She had magic for a reason, but this was so marvelous that she did not care to try and stop him right away.

He finally pulled her away from the wall but did not set her down. She never felt so small, so delicate as she did when Cullen demonstrated his strength. He held her up with just one arm like she weighed nothing, and did not need her to try and hold herself up to help. She was very happy he was holding her up because there was no way for her to trust her legs to hold herself steady.

“Which one is yours, Aurum?” he growled against her mouth.

“Second door. Left.”

He snarled at the distance, kissed her once again, and then rushed to the door. Aurum magicked it open and Cullen rushed in. There would be time later to look at how she decorated her room, how her style translated into her living space. But right now, he needed to turn on the light in the room so he could see her.

Cullen threw her onto her bed, and reached for the zipper of her skirt. His fingers fumbled with the button at her hip, trying to get it off, open, away, because he could see the top of her lingerie already and he did not want to get distracted by what was up top because wow that was green and black on pale skin flushed pink and her breasts were right there, barely covered at all by that sheer fabric and he could just lean up and wrap his lips around one of her nipples because he knew she would like that and –

Aurum batted his hands away from her hips, reached down to undo the lone button, and then wiggled quickly out of her skirt, leaving her lying on her bed, her red-blonde hair in a halo around her head beneath him. She smiled up at him, and Cullen bit his lip. She was spread out beneath him, staring at him with her mouth open and eyes wide.

Her lingerie of choice was shimmering sheer lace, fit nearly corset-tight to her body. The garter belt, faux-corset, the panties, the suspenders and stockings, all of it complemented Aurum so excruciatingly perfect that it was impossible for him to look anywhere but directly at her. Every line, every whorl of the lace, every shimmering thread wove into the fabric was all created with the sole purpose of making damned certain that whoever got to behold her in this would never think to look away.

Cullen stared at her, unmoving, unblinking, and Aurum allowed herself to bask in his attention, slowly undulating her body to let the play of light across the green-gold glittering threads.

Oh, if her Lion had been a mage, he would have set the world on fire with how he was looking at her. Aurum licked her lips, waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do in that moment. Cullen stared at her, shaking his head.

“Maker, you are _beautiful_ , Aurum.”

She laughed, turning away.

“Always with the invocation to your God, Chantry boy.”

He stared down at her, his mouth hanging slack. For a moment, he just looked at her, mentally weighing her words against what he wanted. He slowly leaned down over her, planting a hand next to her shoulder, using the other to stroke down the front of her deliciously sinful attire.

“Would you prefer me to invoke you as my Goddess, Aurum?” he purred, pressing his face into her neck.

“W-wot.”

“Should I worship you, instead?”

“Uuuuh?”

All of Aurums usual eloquence had left her, and Cullen chuckled into her hair. His fingers ghosted down her front, and then slipped beneath her panties. Her groan and his echoed each other. She was sopping wet, and when he hesitantly stroked her, she gasped his name. Her ability to speak forgotten beyond that one word, Aurum settled on chanting his name with the devotion she had once given to the deities of her people, pulling him closer to her so she could kiss him.

She kissed him even as he struggled to get his own jeans off, leaning up to maintain contact as Cullen leaned away to kick his jeans off. He could not get the clothing off of him fast enough because Aurum was beneath him and oh, he wanted. Finally naked, he reached down for Aurum again, pressing his body down against hers. Aurum sighed at the feeling, reaching up to card her fingers through his hair, disrupting his curls into the wild mane she knew his hair was in truth.

For a single, long moment, Cullen toyed with her panties, tugging on them, testing how strong the fabric and elastic was. There was no way for her to take those panties off without undoing her suspenders and that would just take time he did not want to spend. He wanted her, in this lingerie, in her bed, and he wanted her right now.

“Don’t even thi-”

_R-R-R-RIIIIIP_

He tore her underwear clean off of her body, flinging the scattered pieces over his shoulder. Aurum gasped, her brows drawn down into an angry scowl. She opened her mouth to scold him for ruining a matched set and Cullen silenced her with a slow thrust that had her gasping in pleasure instead. He kissed her gently, despite his actions moments before, and rocked into her.

Aurum shuddered at the surprising gentleness of it all. He had pinned her up against a wall, ripped her blouse _and_ her panties to shreds, and now he was -

“I’ll buy you a new fucking set of lingerie, I promise. Consider that my sacrifice.”

“Fuckin’ better. Was expensive shit,” Aurum grumbled.

He laughed, and nipped at her ear in chastisement. Aurum gasped and wriggled beneath him. Her hips rose to meet his on every thrust, even as Cullen kept his mouth (and his _scar_ ) pressed against her ear.

“I’ll drape you in gems and gold and the finest clothing if you promise to stay in bed like this with me and let me worship you.”

“Mmm, hard to say no to that, serah.”

Cullen sighed happily, and continued the slow torture of fucking Aurum into the mattress of her own bed. He did not increase the pace of his thrusts, keeping everything slow and even and most importantly, deep. He wanted to spend this moment really savoring her. Them. This. Every deep slide in to her made pleasure burst through his blood. She was hot and wet, and so very reactive and receptive to him. Every slow draw out of her cunt made her clench down on him, trying to pull him back into her, and when he obliged, she would sigh and open up for him.

“Gods, _Aurum_ ,” he moaned, reaching up to grab her hand.

She twined her fingers with his and pressed a kiss to his temple. Cullen’s otherwise steady tempo stuttered once, and he felt Aurum’s lips spread into a smile at that.

“Thought you said you were going to take me to pieces, Cullen.”

He stopped, looking down at her. She smirked at him, her lips twisted into a sly grin and Cullen took a heartbeat of time to actually _look_ at her. In that moment, she was spread out before him, spread out _around_ him, her body enveloping him, her breath catching in her throat as he pushed deeper into her. He pushed, and she arched up into him, her eyes rolling and mouth dropping open.

Oh, of that he would never tire of seeing.

His pace increased, at first just to make her tits bounce beneath that lacey green thing she was wearing, and then even more because the pleasure of having her like this, seeing her like that, oh, it was the sweetest burning in his heart. If this is what Andraste felt on the pyre, he understood why she sang so sweetly as she went to the Maker.

Beneath him, Aurum gasped his name. Her shoulders tensed, her head snapped back, and on a breathless ‘oh’, her cunt tightened around him, pulsing, pulling him in as her orgasm overtook her. He managed one, two – _three_ more thrusts into her and then his own pleasure was roaring through him. He caught himself before he fell heavily onto her, his prick still inside her, and his need to make her cum again surging back to the forefront of his mind.

Aurum was still shuddering through the aftershocks of her first orgasm – a hard won one that she had thought she might not actually get to experience at all, given Cullen’s previous actions – when Cullen slid out of her cunt, and began kissing her again. She kissed him back for as long as she could, but he was sliding down her body, kissing her neck, kissing her collarbone, kissing her nipples, her stomach, her hipbone.

“Aurum, you are so beautiful in this. In everything you wear, but in this,” he took a moment to kiss her clit, pressing her legs wide as she reached up to clutch her headboard. “Oh, in this I could worship you for hours.”

She gasped as he went back to work, licking every drop of their combined arousal out of her slick cunt. One hand remained on the headboard, and the other came down to grab at Cullen’s hair, pulling him tighter to her so she could grind herself against his face. He allowed the movements with a low groan and went back to work. He wanted to hear her scream, he wanted her to fall to pieces on the altar of her bed.

Aurum lost track of time. She lost track of her name, of where she was, of reality itself. Her pleasure consumed her, and she lost everything to it. Her world exploded behind her eyes and she collapsed into darkness.

* * *

“Mmmnhgh?”

“Hey there, emm’asha. Nice of you to come back.”

Aurum blinked, trying to wake herself up enough to remember what was going on. Cullen was above her, running his fingers down the curve of her jaw, and pressing gentle kisses to her brow. She reached up to pull him close to her, nuzzling her nose into his neck and making unintelligible sounds beneath her breath.

“You alright, love?”

“Mmmmmmnnnnnn, yes. I am. Very alright. Thank you.”

“Do you want to get out of those clothes?”

Aurum nodded, and lifted her arms up. Cullen chuckled, and turned her onto her stomach. There was an intricate lacework of ribbon tracing up her back, and Cullen was a little disappointed he had not had the chance to really see her in her full glory before they had started. Oh, another time. Another time he would push her down on her stomach and pull her hips up and fuck her facefirst into the mattress.

 _Oh that was a nice idea_.

He shook his head. Later, later, later. He would tend to that thought _later_. Right now, he was going to undress his girlfriend and tuck her in to bed. She was so pliant beneath his touch, turning and moving at his slightest touch. Cullen took care of everything, rolling her stockings down her long legs, gently sliding the lace and shimmery material down, or up, and across, her skin until she was naked.

“Under the covers now, Aurum?”

“You’re staying with me, don’t even think about leaving.”

“Of course not, I promise.”

“Mmm, good.”

He gently pushed her under the covers of her bed, and she sleepily complied, turning and reaching for him with a mumbled string of slurred Dalish words. Cullen swore his heart felt like it was fit to burst as he looked down at his girlfriend, who stared at him with her blues eyes wide and her hands grabbing for him absently. He let himself be pulled into bed with her, and when she twined herself around him like the blackberry bramble he had fought and lost, he could only smile and let her do just that. Aurum nuzzled his neck, pulling him close and together, they fell into a comfortable slumber.

* * *

“Oh for _fucks_ sake, Aurum!”

Dorian’s voice startled Cullen awake, and next to him, Aurum did a bad job of feigning sleep. She was smirking and badly hiding it. Cullen looked out of her room, out to the main living area, where her clothes littered the floor. Dorian was staring at them, a mighty frown on his face, making some sort of confused gesture with his hands.

Cullen shrugged and looked back to Aurum.

“I know you’re awake, you damned Dalish!”

“Frowning will give you wrinkles, Tevinter. Can’t have that, can we?”

Aurum’s voice was firm, and Cullen could not help but laugh at Dorian’s face as he tried to express his anger without doing something that would give him a wrinkle. Then, it appeared that Dorian abandoned the attempt and stamped his foot impatiently.

“You could’ve cleaned up after your sodding selves!”

“Language, Tevinter.”

“Venhedis!”

The door slammed, Aurum giggled, and Cullen shook his head before leaning down to kiss her again. This was a good a time as any to get back to ravishing her, since Dorian was not going to come back around for a while, and he made that well known by pressing hot, desperate kisses to her neck and ear until she was squirming and panting his name.

Oh, this could work wonderfully.


	8. BONUS TWO: Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a suggestion from enjoyingtheread, who wanted a hot pegging scene! 
> 
> Man do I hope I delivered. As always, let me know if there's anything else you guys would want to see in this series because I am literally down to try and write anything that I could fit into the story at the point. Why? Because I have no self-control, obviously. The other suggestions that've been made are going to be addressed in due time, don't worry. I just wanted to write a pegging scene first, is all.

Aurum was curled into his embrace, naked and humming happily under her breath. His shoulders and chest ached with the new bruises she had gifted him, and the sting of still-smarting welts made him shiver. It was becoming more and more common for Aurum to stay with him throughout the entire night, regardless of his nightmares. They had eaten morning meals together, but for the sake of their relationship, neither called it breakfast. It was always something else.

Aurum was fast asleep, her breath even and slow. Cullen’s nightmares had become less and less frequent whenever she slept near him. Her presence relaxed him in a way nothing else had. He had a small suspicion it had something to do with her using some manner of magic on him, but when he asked, she had just smiled and held him close until he fell into a deep sleep.

The first time he heard his phone ring, he ignored it. If someone expected him to pick up his home phone at this hour of the night, they were insane. He was with Aurum, and that was more than enough excuse for him to ignore anything except the most pressing of emergencies, and there hadn’t been one since the near-attack on the Conclave all those months ago.

Aurum mumbled something offensive about his phone ringing so late at night and he shushed her with a kiss. She relaxed back into sleep, and for a while, there was silence again. Cullen even started to drift towards dreaming, holding Aurum close to him to assuage the nightmares before they could even start.

Until Cullen’s cell phone started ringing, insistent and loud, just to his side of the bed. He cursed and fumbled for his phone one-handed in the dark. Aurum snickered, until her phone started ringing as well. It was a ringtone he had never heard before, but hearing it had Aurum out of the bed and snatching her phone up. She answered immediately, pressing her ear to the phone and snapped something harsh and guttural in response to whatever was being said.

Cullen was still pulling his phone to his ear when Aurum started getting dressed, and got the news as she was reaching for his bedroom door. He surged out of bed, reaching for his uniform, knowing where that was, even in the dark and confusion that dogged him.

“Aurum, it’s-”

“Haven. I know. I’ll be back.”

He looked down to button his pants, and when he looked up, Aurum was already gone. He wanted to be concerned for where she could have gone, he wanted to stop and search for her, but he had gotten the call because he was one of the closest officers, because he should be there, because of a lot of things, and he needed to get there _now_.

Cullen could ask Aurum how she knew about Haven later. He could ask her where she had gone, later.

* * *

Haven was a massive complex, not something many people expected when they heard about the shelter. The name made it sound small, cute. What it was, however, was a rare combination of Thedosian community, without politics getting in the way. It housed close to one hundred and fifty children under the age of majority, and had more than enough acreage to its title that it could also provide those children with a stellar education, plenty of recreational activities and a true _home_ that they could stay at for as long as they needed to.

It was, now, currently, on fire. Under attack by the same group that had claimed responsibility for the near-death of the Divine at the Conclave, and he had been called in to try and help mitigate the problem.

“Cullen, over here!”

Cassandra’s voice tore his gaze away from the burning buildings and screaming. Hastily, he made his way to her side, brushing past the horrified onlookers.

“We’ve got to get inside the main building,” she started, before he was even at her side. “They’ve got all the children in there, and have been making threats that they’ll start killing them if we don’t – oh _Maker_ , who brought the Ghosts?”

Cullen nearly broke his neck looking in the direction that Cassandra was sighing at. But there was nothing. No one was standing there. He’d never manage to see a Ghost, even knowing that Aurum had been one at Kinloch while he was serving, he’d never -

“Sera was one, once. Before she joined the Jennys, at least,” came Leliana’s voice from behind them both. As they turned to face the Left Hand of the Divine, Cullen finally got to meet a Ghost.

“We got in and out of Circles, we can get in and out of that building. These people are Templars and mages, much like people we have faced before. As long as their attention is drawn elsewhere, we will get the children out safely.”

The Ghost that appeared in their midst spoke softly, their voice barely above a whisper. This one was no mage. At their hip was a paired set of daggers, the preferred weapon of assassins, even today. There was no easily discernible gender to the speaker, and their face was covered. The Ghost kept their shoulders rolled forward, shrinking down to make themselves smaller. They wrung their hands, looking between Cassandra and Cullen.

“She wants you not to worry about her. She has done this before. She is doing what is right.”

The Ghost spoke disjointedly, directing his words to Cullen.

“Wh..what?”

“She does not want you to worry. She can do this. Create a diversion at the front of the building. She will go in the back way. They will begin to extract the children. As soon as they begin, rush the front door. The offenders will scatter. We will take them all down.”

The Ghost nodded, and moved to walk away. Cullen reached for them, grabbing them by the elbow.

“What did you mean?”

“You know what I mean. She knows you understand.”

The Ghost was gone after that, disentangling Cullen’s hand from their elbow. He watched, amazed, as they vanished into smoke. He turned to Cassandra, a question on his lips, but the Seeker only made a disgusted sound beneath her breath and agreed that they should do as the Ghosts suggested. It would give those inside the best chance to get away.

* * *

He and his team pressed forward, ignoring the flames that roared in the husks of the buildings that once housed children. They were not trying to be stealthy in their approach. No, they were a distraction, and that clearly unnerved some of those standing with him, but it was what Cassandra and Leliana had decided was best.

Cullen had instructed them not to fire back until they were close enough to take a damned good shot because there were _children_ trapped in there and they did not want to hurt any kids. Cullen shuddered to think what it would to do any of them to know that they had injured, or Maker forbid, killed one of the children in there.

What he didn’t expect was a loud crack of a sniper’s rifle from behind them, and then a guttered-out scream from the people in front of them.

“We have your back. Bees is on the roof. She will cover you.”

The Ghost from before appeared in the middle of their group, startling the more jumpy members of the strike team, but only looking to Cullen when they spoke. The group kept moving, not wanting to lose their momentum as they drew closer to their target.

“How can we be certain she won’t accidentally hit one of us? Where is she?” Cullen asked, but the Ghost was gone again.

He shook his head and tried not to flinch the next time he heard the rifle behind them fire.

* * *

As they prepared to breach the side door they had chosen, and as the rifle fired sporadically to keep the terrorists low and away from them, Cullen had a brief glimpse of his second Ghost. How he could differentiate it from the first, he was not certain, only that when he saw the second, he knew it was not the Ghost who had spoken to him twice. This one looked…lithe-er, not necessarily more nimble, he thought, until he watched in awe as the Ghost darted up the side of the building, pulling themselves up and up and _up_ out of sight.

At one point, this building had been a Chantry. There was no true second story, just a high, noble roof with stained glass windows depicting Andraste’s rise and fall. If anyone within wanted to be bored during an over-long sermon, they could look up and still be reminded of their faith.

Now, though, those windows were boarded over and this building was primarily used for storage. The dissolution of the Circles and the Mage’s Rights movement had made it illegal to make it compulsory for any public institution to enforce the Andrastian religion as “their religion”, and many Chantries like this one had since fallen out of use.

On the go-ahead, they charged the door, which splintered beneath their assault, and like the well-trained team they were, they prepared to fight. Those who had threatened the children of Haven were not given a moment to register their surprise at this bold breach before the windows shattered and the Ghosts made their presence known.

The one Cullen had spoken to appeared out of smoke, their daggers flashing with deadly precision, ending the two nearest to their group before vanishing again. The one he had seen leapt from the window they had broken open, magic cracking at their opponents. That one landed gracefully and began spinning lightning and fire and ice around her in a dizzying display of magical prowess. Three of the mage-terrorists moved to engage that one Ghost.

“The children, go to the children,” the speaker-Ghost whispered in his ear, still cloaked in shadows.

There were flittings of shadows all around them as Ghosts began their dastardly work. As much as Aurum had assured him that she had never murdered a Templar, never once murdered a Templar, Cullen could only watch as the Ghosts made mincemeat of those who had threatened the children. The mage-Ghost threw barriers behind them with casual ease, never once stepping out of her deadly dance with the other mages.

They were soon joined in their weaponless dance by a second mage, who spun their spells of fright and terror into the first Ghost’s spellwork, and soon there were dancing dead bodies and the terrifying hum of death’s wings in the air. Cullen hustled his team to the children, pleased and surprised to see them already encircled by a protective ring of Ghosts. They nodded in tandem as Cullen’s group approached and carefully, caringly, let them start taking children with them.

Some of the children were crying, some reached up to be held and then clung tight without ever needing to be told to do so. Cullen refrained from taking one of the children, but readied himself for a fight in case any of his people or the Ghosts needed assistance in fighting one of the –

“Singer! One’s out the front!”

One of the nearest Ghosts, too short to be anything other than a dwarf called out, pointing to the front door of the Chantry.

The mage who had first begun the fight whipped their head in tandem with Cullen to look to where one of the terrorists had a squalling child in their arms and was making a break for…wherever it was they were going. In tandem, again, they broke into a run. What Cullen did _not_ expect to see was the mage vault one of the terrorists with gymnastic ease and, before their feet touched the ground again, take the shape of a huge, white, direwolf.

Cullen paused for just the barest of moments, too shocked to block when one of the Templar-terrorists attacked him. He grunted as his opponent cracked his wrist, and he dropped his gun to avoid having his wrist broken. Cullen had received hand to hand combat training as well and dispatched the attacker quickly.

He still gave chase after the Ghost-Wolf, leaving his gun behind.

“ _Kaffas_ , the two of you will kill me! You keep her safe, dammit!” the second mage snarled as he passed, throwing a barrier around Cullen before he could get too far.

Cullen would consider the words later. Right now, he had to try and catch the escaping terrorist. He had to help that Ghost. They were chasing a Templar, he knew. A mage against a Templar, no matter the odds, tended to skew towards the Templar. And he couldn’t let that Ghost get hurt. Not when…he just couldn’t.

He chased after them, following their fire-lit trail through the darkness of the night, not able to keep pace with the wolf, or the Templar terrorist who had gotten such a huge head start on the both of them. Cullen didn’t even know if they knew that he was on the way behind them, but it did not matter. He had to try and help. They vanished into the dark and he was left with the tracks in the grass, disrupted dewdrops giving him a clear path to follow.

He heard a gunshot and a canine yelp that fell into a more human scream. Even if he had been running as fast as he could manage, Cullen found the last reserves of speed he needed to close the distance. They had run into the copse of trees that formed the border between Haven and the mountains behind Skyhold, and thankfully the groundskeeper kept the loam to a minimum, so his approach was quieter.

As soon as Cullen could hear the laughter of the Templar and the words snarled back by the Ghost, he slowed, not wanting to rush into something and get himself killed.

In a small clearing, he could see both the Templar and the Ghost, facing off. He had come out of the trees behind the Templar, so only the Ghost could see him, if they saw anything. The Ghost was still on their feet, clutching a bleeding wound on their side. Blood leaked over their dappled blue-black clothing, a spreading dark stain down their side. The child was being held against the Templar’s leg, but the gun the Templar held was pointed solely at the Ghost.

“Not this time, _Singer_ ,” the Templar snarled. Cullen knew that voice. He had…he had served with this Templar in Kirkwall.

The Ghost’s face was covered, so he couldn’t read their expression, but the way their shoulders ticked told Cullen they had seen him. Their fingers moved, and he hoped he interpreted their intention correctly. He strafed to the right, staying low and out of the Templar’s line of sight. He could be seeing things, but he swore he saw the Ghost’s chin tuck down in affirmation that that’s what they wanted.

“Last time you weren’t so against mages. You looked the other way when we took back some of our own. What happened, Samson? Why are you doing this?”

The Ghost knew the Templar too?

Well that certainly narrowed who it could be to just about any mage that had ever been in Kirkwall. Cullen shook his head. That wasn’t important right now. The Ghost was stalling and trying to let him get into a better position. The child was the most important thing, and it did not seem like Samson actually cared about the hostage, other than to keep the Ghost at bay. The gun was just extra insurance.

Samson just laughed and gestured with his gun. The Ghost stiffened, trying to anticipate where the next shot would come from. The random movements made it hard to predict where they could be shot from and that was not entirely comforting when you were the one going to get shot again.

“It doesn’t matter! None of it matters. You can’t use your magic, and you’re out here alone. I have a hostage and you’ll do anything to keep this little magelet safe, won’t you, _Singer_? And I don’t see any of your friends coming here to save-”

Samson made as if he was going to turn to gesture to the great wide expanse of the world around them both. Cullen froze, and the Ghost acted before he could.

“You know that’s not true. There’s one magic I can use, you fucking _Templar_.”

Samson looked back to the Ghost, a sneer on his lips. Cullen could see the blood dripping from the Ghost’s wound, and he had to blink rapidly when he, simultaneous to Samson, saw the curlings of magic begin working through the blood, casting a dull red glow across the Ghost’s hand.

“You were never the sort.”

“You’re so _very_ wrong. To protect, I would do anything.”

The Ghost drew their hand from their side, exposing the raw edges of the glancing gunshot wound. The skin blackened as the blood began to glow. From behind the mask they wore there came a matching red glow from their eyes. Blood magic. Blood mage!

Samson moved to shoot the mage, the mage pulled blood magic around them, and Cullen dove for the child. Samson looked down, his gun coming around to aim at Cullen now that he recognized Cullen as a threat. Protectively, Cullen covered the child’s body with his own, cradling them away from the danger that both mage and Templar now presented. There was a flash of red, a scream unlike any he had heard before, and then, the gentle approach of feet on dewy grass.

“It is done. Take the child back,” he heard the Ghost say.

By the time Cullen looked up, the Ghost was gone, leaving only a trail of blood in their wake. Samson was stretched out prone on the grass, his eyes open and glassy. Blood leaked from his nose and mouth, but the Templar – the man Cullen had once served alongside – was dead. The smell of blood magic was still heavy on the back of Cullen’s tongue.

He helped the child to their feet, careful to keep them from having to see the dead body, picking them up when their little legs refused to walk and assuring them at length that everything was okay now. He was careful, and walked very slowly, talking to the child every step of the way until they were back to where the worried caretakers had been waiting for their return. He handed the weepy child to the nearest caretaker, who went right to work coddling the poor thing.

Cullen looked to the once-Chantry, not knowing what he expected to see. The Ghosts – the ones he had already seen were standing by the door still, watching from a distance. One of them offered him a half-bow, and they scattered into the night. He frowned, and turned to Cassandra, a question already on his lips.

“They’re not our concern, Cullen. They helped, and there’s no way to know who they are. As long as they hold their end of the bargain they made with the Divine, we are not to interfere.”

* * *

“ _Venhedis_ , Aurum, really? You know it’s not going to heal right with magic.”

“I know what I did, Dorian. Shut up and stitch,” she snapped.

Cullen paused outside their flat’s door, his hand already raised to knock. The two mages were trying to be quiet, but their voices carried.

“You could’ve done something else. I know you can force through the Templ-”

“Shut. Up. And. Stitch. **_Dorian_**.”

“This isn’t the right thread.”

“I’ll tear it out when it’s closed up enough, alright? I’ve done this before, but never with someone who insisted on being so fucking _chatty_ instead of holding pressure and _stitching_.”

Their door was unlocked when he tried the handle. There was a smear of blood across the doorframe. It still smelled like magic. Dread bade his hand to pause before he pushed the door open.

Aurum was sitting on their dining table, blood all over the sheet beneath her, down her torso, staining the dark blue-black clothing she had been wearing. There were deep black bruises beneath both of her eyes, and she looked to be seconds from passing out. The wound Dorian was tending to was blackened around the edges, and the veins in her skin that lead to the wound were darkened as well. Dorian was completely dressed in clothing shockingly similar to Aurum’s, his hair in wild disarray and his hands covered in blood. In his hands, a blood-soaked rag and a needle and thread.

Aurum had told him she had been a Ghost.

Cullen peeked at the wound, and bit his lip. It looked as if it was _starting_ to heal, yes, but not fast enough for him to feel comfortable. Her skin was blackened around the edges. Cullen did not know if that was from necrosis or just the burn that…happened, with that sort of magic. His stomach roiled. Cullen looked stared at the oozing, angry, red wound. Aurum’s skin was so _pale_ and the blood was so _red_.

They looked up at him. Aurum’s face was white and she was pushing Dorian away, trying to get off the table, reaching for him even as she folded in half from the pain, her words spilling over themselves too fast for him to even care to try to listen. The fear that he had tamped down for so long (blood mage blood mages abominations and blood mages blood MAGE BLOOD MAGE THEY ARE COMING) strangled him and he bolted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Aurum crumpled to the floor, clutching her still-bleeding wound and holding onto Dorian for support.

* * *

For the past week, Cullen hadn’t even looked at his cell phone. He had barely managed to call Cassandra and tell her that he couldn’t come in to work before he had locked his door and he’d spent the rest of his time trying to work up the ability to call Aurum.

But every time he thought about calling or even texting her, he’d see her hands covered in blood and the blood magic circling her. He saw her face instead of the blood mages at Kinloch, summoning demons to tempt him again, he saw her hands curl into claws and felt them sink into his skin. He spent more time kneeling in front of his toilet the first few days than he could have ever remembered doing so before.

It had been a long time since he had been this badly shaken by the old trauma. Of course, his therapist and his doctors had told him it was probable that he would be dealing with this for the rest of his life, but it had never involved _Aurum_ before, and that was what was making it worse. He needed to talk to her about it, but the merest thought of her was enough to make him shake again.

Cullen kept up after himself. He made sure he ate at least two meals every day, and he took showers after he threw up, and he made sure that he checked in online to make sure Cassandra knew that he was not in any real danger. He promised himself that if he could not manage to pull himself out of this by Friday, he would call his doctor, or call Cassandra to do it for him. He scheduled an appointment with his therapist for the next week, anyway, and promised himself again that he would not miss that appointment, no matter what. Even if he had to have Cassandra come drag him to it in his rattiest pajamas, he was going to that appointment.

His phone chirruped at him, and he ignored it like he had been for the entire week. Anyone who knew him or wanted to talk to him knew to talk to Cassandra by now.

It was time for him to eat a meal though. That was enough to get him up out of bed and trudging towards his kitchen. He had been eating too much junk food. This time he was going to make something a little more substantial. Cassandra had brought him some groceries. He would make soup. That was a good plan.

Slowly, he walked to his kitchen, and began the process of collecting the ingredients. He did not want to use any knives or sharp things, so he was limited by what was already in appropriate sizes. So he decided on something that was pretty easy to prepare with the spices and dried noodles he already had on hand.

A soft knock on his door broke him out his trance. That was not Cassandra’s knock.

Also, Cassandra had a key and would just let herself in if she needed to. Cullen frowned, but did not move to answer the door right away. Whoever it was, he did not want to talk to them. Not right now. The knocking did not stop, though.

It was not the assertive knock of someone who knew they belonged.

“Vhenan, please. I don’t have a lot of time.”

He had the door open before he could think straight, even as his fear echoed in his ears. Aurum was leaning heavily on the wall next to his door, holding herself up with some sort of massive effort on her part. She looked…awful. Her skin was ashen, and the bruises under her eyes had faded to a dull yellow. Her clothes were wrinkled, and Cullen didn’t think she had dressed that morning with the intention of seeing anything except the interior of her own bedroom. Her eyes were bloodshot, and when she looked up at him, she still tried to smile, her lip splitting in the corner.

“Aurum?” Cullen managed, reaching for her, despite the terror that still dogged him.

“ _Aurum!_ ”

Dorian stormed down the hallway, and Bull was right behind him. Aurum winced and flinched away from Dorian when he grabbed her by the arm.

“Cullen, my apologies. She got away from me. We’re leaving, don’t worry,” the Tevinter said, being as gentle as he could with a petulant, uncooperative Aurum. “Bull, pick her up. Watch her side, that’s still healing.”

Aurum growled, but didn’t pull away when Bull reached for her. She nearly fell into the huge Qunari when Dorian took a step away from her, and Bull was quick to heft her. Cullen felt all the more off balance when Aurum paled in Bull’s grasp and made a soft moan of pain. Bull was quick to move his hand away from where it was, but Cullen saw the dark stain on his hand.

“She’s bleeding?”

“Yes. Damned knife-ear,” Dorian started, only to be interrupted by a weak “Hey, **fuck you** , Tevinter,” from Aurum. “Damned _idiot_ ,” he continued.

“Better, thank you.”

“Decided to use blood magic when she knew she couldn’t do it.”

“Mm, only choice. Was going to shoot Cullen. Couldn’t let ‘im,” Aurum slurred from Bull’s arms, her eyes already drooping as she fell asleep.

“I didn’t say you did the wrong thing, just the _stupid_ thing. Come on now, we need to get you back home so I can look at that again.”

“You can bring her in here. She’s bleeding. She can stay. I can watch her,” Cullen said before he could stop himself. Aurum was still his girlfriend.

“ ** _NO._** ”

Startled, everyone in the room looked to Aurum, who spoke with a steel core to her voice for the first time in a long time. She directed her fiercest stare at Cullen, who quailed not because it was intimidating, but because she looked so _broken_ when he actually looked at her. Her breath came in sharp, staccato pants, and she snarled around the emotions in her chest.

“It’s not good for me to be here. I shouldn’t have come. I want to go home, Dorian. Now.”

“Aurum…” Dorian started, looking to Cullen, who was still staring at her.

“I want. To go home. Now. When Cullen is ready, he can come talk with me.”

Cullen did not try and stop them. He just watched them leave. It was the best thing to do for now.

* * *

He had checked, and double checked and triple checked his outfit, and while everything was fine (still), he couldn’t bring himself to knock on her door. Not right yet. He still needed to check that his shoes were tied. The door clicked and opened before he could think about what he was doing, Aurum was standing in front of him, looking like she had seen a ghost.

“C-cullen?”

“Aurum! Ah, he-hello.”

“What are you…why are you wearing that?”

He looked down. He had worn a suit to meet with her, trying to wear something that made him feel protected and safe. Cullen had even gone so far as to pick colors he knew she liked to see on him to try and make the meeting go better than it would otherwise.

They had been talking via text for a while now, as each of them recovered from their wounds. This was not the first day that Cullen had been feeling better, and he had purposefully waited until he was certain that he was truly well before coming to visit her. It had been meant to be a surprise and then he had found himself at her door unable to knock because he was still terrified of upsetting her. He had something he wanted to ask. Something he had been thinking about for a while now.

“Uh, I wanted to look nice. For you. I’m sorry it took so long. I can come back later.”

“N-no. Stay, please. I wasn’t going anywhere important. Do you want to come in and talk?”

“Yes, please.”

* * *

“…I didn’t know. I mean, I knew what happened at Kinloch…I didn’t know it was that bad for you. Thank you for telling me. I know it can be hard. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Cullen reached for her hands and pulled her close to him. They were sitting on the couch together, cuddled close to each other as they talked through what had happened to Cullen.

“You didn’t know. Its...it’s something I’m working on. I just didn’t think you, I didn’t expect you to be a blood – a blood mage.”

“I’m _not_. I just used blood magic. The two are very different.”

Cullen nodded, and held her tighter to him. He understood that, he did. It did not stop the surge of feeling in his chest.

“Can I…see the scar?”

Aurum blinked.

“Yea. It’s not very big. As soon as I stopped being sick, it healed really cleanly.”

She lifted the hem of her shirt, and leaned so that Cullen could see the spider’s web of scars that now marred her ribcage. Cullen gently brushed his fingers across the scar, and both of them trembled. Cullen, because he was trying to suppress the sudden surge of revulsion that lanced through him at the thought of it being caused by blood magic, and Aurum because she was still trying to come to terms with the feeling of someone touching the wound and it not causing pain.

“It…feels so thin.”

“It’s still healing. Eventually, the scar will probably be gone entirely.”

Cullen pressed his entire palm against her scar and Aurum shivered. He pulled her into his lap, keeping his hand on the scar. Aurum moaned sweetly when he leaned up to kiss her, wrapping his hands around the back of his neck.

“Cullen, I-”

“ _Aurum_.”

He kissed her ferociously, pulling her flush against him, trying to memorize the feel of her body against his. She ground herself against him, gasping into his mouth as he started pulling at her shirt. She did not want to break away from their kiss, but to get her shirt off, Aurum could be convinced to do just that. Her fingers deftly unknotted his tie and threw it over her shoulder before she started on the buttons on his shirt.

Cullen moaned when she ran her fingers down his chest, throwing his head back when she bent to kiss his shoulder.

“Aurum, please. I – I need to ask you something. I need something from you.”

She withdrew from him, her brows drawn down. Aurum made a move to get off his lap, but he kept her where she was, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I…I wanted to ask. C-can you pretend for me? I-I want to, u-ah…”

“Cullen, do you have a watchword?” Aurum asked, brushing one of his curls out of his eyes.

“Yes,” he whispered, hoping that he was going to do this right.

“What is it?”

“My watchword is…mabari.”

“Alright, then. What do you want, Cullen?”

He closed his eyes, and held his breath until he found his courage again. He came here with a purpose. She knew to ask for a watchword, because she knew him that well. She was with him, again, after so long. He wanted to do this. It was his choice, and that was what was going to make the difference this time. He was _choosing_ this.

“I want you to…to be a blood mage. I want you to – to dominate me. But I-” he had to catch himself. His voice was hitching, cracking around the words that he was trying to get out in a rush. “I need you to f-fuck me. Please, Aurum, I wouldn’t ask unless i-it was important, but y-you don’t have to if…”

Cullen swallowed his words, and looked up at Aurum. Her eyes were brimming with tears and she leaned in to kiss him again. He surrendered to the kiss, sighing when she slid her tongue into his mouth. She kissed him for a long while, gently massaging the back of his neck. They kissed and kissed and kissed until Cullen was dizzy with need. She slowly rocked herself against him, running her fingers down his chest.

“Vhenan, of course. For you, anything. But not tonight.”

He blinked, looking at her with shock in his golden eyes.

“Wh-?”

“Aurum! I’m _ho-o-ome_ and I brought _sna-a-acks_ …oh…hey Cullen.”

Dorian brushed past them both and sat himself down on the couch next to them. Aurum laughed and slid halfway off Cullen’s lap, reaching for the sweets that Dorian had brought home for them to enjoy. Cullen blushed scarlet and reached to start buttoning his shirt. Aurum smacked his hands away and wrapped her arms around his half-dressed torso, wiggling closer to him.

They passed their evening in amendable company, and when Aurum dragged him back to her bed, Cullen felt the deep, dark thrill rise in his gut. But she just helped him undress and slid under the covers with him before falling asleep.

* * *

It continued in the same vein for a few more weeks. She would come over, or he would visit her, and they would do nothing more salacious than some heavy petting. This was a nice change of pace and all that, but whenever Cullen made impatient overtures about why she was not moving directly to what he burned to do, she would only smile, kiss him on the cheek and tell him it wasn’t the right time yet.

She asked him at length about what he wanted. What he didn’t want. She covered every possible thing he could consider and then a couple dozen things more. He didn’t want to be gagged, he was okay with being tied down with magic, yes, he understood that his watchword would stop the scene immediately, yes, he knew that she would never judge him for using it, no, he didn’t want her to use a knife on him, but he didn’t mind if she bit him or used magic on him, as long as none of it was actually mind-altering magic, and on and on and on until she was absolutely certain that all of his choices were the ones he actually wanted.

Cullen did his best to keep his curiosity to himself when he saw Aurum conversing at length with Bull, his name featuring heavily in what parts of their conversations he could overhear. It seemed whatever they would talk about was nothing for him to truly know about, because whenever he would approach, Aurum would cut her conversation with Bull off and look to Cullen, her pupils blown wide and her voice breathless.

He gave up trying to figure out just what she was planning. It was obvious she wasn’t going to tell him _anything_ until it was time for him to know.

Cullen shook his head. This was too much. He shouldn’t even be thinking about this right now. Aurum said she was going to be away for a couple of days, even though he had just managed to get some time off for himself, at Cassandra’s insistence. It would be nice to have some time to himself, but he really preferred having time to spend with Aurum.

He opened the door to his apartment, and reached, instinctively for the lightswitch next to the door. But when he flicked it, nothing happened. Confused, he flipped the switch a few times, trying to understand how the hell his electricity could be out when the light in the hall just outside was on.

His door slammed behind him, and the deadbolt slid home with a loud _thunk_. Cullen spun on the intruder, reaching for the knife in the back of his belt, but a flash of magic sent it flying away. He prepared to grapple with whoever it was that had broken into his apartment, but before he could throw the first punch at his mystery assailant, magelights lit the room.

Aurum stood before him, her eyes glittering in the greenish light cast by her luminescent bubbles. Cullen’s arousal hit him so hard it felt like _he_ had been punched.

“Vhenan, what is your watchword?” she purred, her fingers already working the clasps of his belt.

“My watchword is mabari,” he replied, his voice firm. She had asked if he would be okay with her ambushing him. He said he wanted her to. He didn’t expect it to be tonight. But Maker, he didn’t care. This was perfect.

“Mine is halani, vhenan. If you need to stop, do not hesitate to use your word. If it is too much for me, I will use mine, so you know we are done. Ma’arlath, Cullen.”

“Love you too,” he mumbled, immediately committing her word to memory. He needed to listen to her.

“Good, _boy_ ,” Aurum murmured at him, pressing her hands to his chest.

Part of him preened beneath the praise, and he found that he did not mind the diminutization in that moment. He arched into her touch, silently begging for more. The mage-lights above her head went out, and Cullen felt, but did not see, Aurum begin to work on his clothes. She did not kiss him, just stripped him of his belt. He tensed. He had asked for –

“Come now, pet. I’m going to break you.”

Her voice was dark with desire, and Cullen gasped. The words cut him to the quick, and lit a burning need in him. When she reached up to wrap his belt around his neck, sliding the strap through the buckle and tightening it just barely enough for him to be conscious of the pressure it afforded him, Cullen trembled. She tugged on the strap she now held like a leash, and he followed after her as she led him through his darkened apartment.

The first time he ran his shin into a piece of his furniture, he cried out, confused. That table shouldn’t be there. He had not put his endtable there, it belonged further to his left. He ran into his table. A table. A chair. He twisted his feet in a carpet he didn’t remember owning, and the walk to his room was far longer than it could be.

Aurum pulled him along by his…collar with short, sharp jerks. Never hard enough to hurt, only enough to get his attention back on her, instead of where he was going.

“Good pet. Come with me,” she purred, pushing him back against a wall.

Her fingers wrapped around his throat, sliding beneath his collar and pressing against his skin. Aurum kissed him, nipping his lip and sighing when he started to kiss her back. Her hands pressed on his hipbones, pinning him back against his wall. She reached up his torso until her hands were against his neck, and _pushed_ , taking his breath away, squeezing until he started to feel lightheaded. Cullen reached for her, desperate to hold her, and she batted his hands away from her.

“No. You don’t get to _touch_.”

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, withdrawing his hands.

“Sorry? You’re **sorry**? Not yet, you’re not.”

He opened his mouth to apologize, but she silenced him with a harsh bite on his lower lip. Cullen tasted blood in his mouth and Aurum pressed her tongue flat against the wound. She moaned into his mouth, pulling on the strap of his belt until he leaned down and kissed her back.

“You’re going to address me by the title your Circle denied me, Templar. I am your Enchanter. Your _Enchanter_ , do you understand?” she snarled at him, pulling him behind her again.

“Yes, Enchanter.”

“Good boy.”

The sharp excitement of the quasi-endearment made his heart leap in his chest.

She opened a door and pushed him through. He stumbled and she kept pushing, pinching his arm, his sides, his ass. Light flared around him, painfully bright, and he winced. This was his bedroom, still. But things had been changed. His bedsheets had been stripped and replaced with sheets unnervingly similar to the ones issued to Templars in the Circle at Kinloch…all of his personal affects, the few that he had collected and placed around him were gone. Aurum had stripped everything that was _him_ out of the room and-

“Strip.”

He turned his head to look at her, and she grabbed him by the chin. That didn’t stop him from seeing that she was wearing mage robes like Circle mages did. She looked every inch a Circle mage and the dark makeup around her eyes made her look like -

“I said strip. Now strip, Templar.”

He still hesitated. She rolled her eyes and made a gesture with her hand. He jumped when he felt her magic against his skin, and then took a quick step away from her when his clothing ripped and shredded. It fell to the ground in tatters at his feet, leaving him naked in front of her.

The look in her eyes was predatory as she circled him, still keeping her hold on the beltstrap.

He watched, breathless, as her eyes dipped down his body. He couldn’t help the flush that colored his cheeks when she smirked at his erect cock. Her lip curled into a sneer and the Templar could _feel_ the magic in the air around him. It pressed against his skin, drawing out every last iota of Templar-sense he still had. Cullen trembled. She smirked.

“Oh, the Templar likes it when the mage has him in control?” she hissed. “Walking around lording over us for so long, you started wondering what this would be like? To have a mage lording over him instead of the Chantry? Oh, to have the illusion of choice stripped away. You must be _breathless_.”

He swallowed the knot in his throat at the words. It was hard with his collar still on, but…the pressure made his eyes roll up back into his head. His cock jumped at the pressure, hitting his belly, smearing precum there. The Enchanter reached up to loosen the collar on his neck, and then pulled his belt completely away, throwing it to the ground. She wrapped her long, delicate fingers around his throat again, but did not apply any pressure this time. He waited, trying not to move.

“Kneel, _Ser_ Templar.”

Cullen hesitated. Her magic caught him behind the knees and **pushed**. He knelt at her feet, and she laughed. She pulled his hair and pushed on his throat and _forced_ his submission to her. He could only look up at her as she smiled down at him. Her magic held him in place. He could not rise from his position, and when he struggled against it, she snarled down at him. Fire danced on her breath and she leered at him.

“Can you feel it yet?”

He blinked. He felt a few things. The weight of her magic on the back of his knees, for one. The bite of his carpet on his knees, two. Confused, he furrowed his brow, and shook his head. She laughed, and traced the line of his jaw with her fingers. Heat pooled low in his belly at her touch, his breath quickened and he tensed.

“Oh, now you do. Isn’t magic _fun_?” the Enchanter drawled, gripping his jaw tight and pulling him up as far as he could be. “Can’t you feel the heat? The pull? The **_desire_**?”

The Templar shivered. Because he did. He wanted. He wanted desperately. He needed, he wanted, he burned for her touch. He burned for her, ached for her, needed her, and…

“I’m going to bind you to me, Templar. I’m going to make you mine, and mine alone. You’re going to ache for me every moment we are apart. You’re going to need me, crave me, Templar. I’m going to make sure of it. I’m going to take everything I want out of you and break you on the anvil of my will. You’re going to know what it means to be _owned_.”

The Enchanter smiled dreamily down at him, gently running her fingers through his hair in a mockery of gentle love. His heart stuttered in his chest and he groaned as she twirled one of his curls around his finger.

“And we’re going to start by you taking your cock in your hand. I want you to remember this as the last time your pleasure belonged to you.”

She pressed a kiss to his temple and he moaned. All of his nerves lit with pleasure so acute that he seized up under her touch. His hands were free and before he could think about it, he had one of his hands wrapped around his cock. The Enchanter stepped away and began working at the clasps of the mage robes she was wearing. The Templar stared up at her, his mouth hanging slack.

The robes a mage wore in a Circle were sexless things, meant to keep mage thoughts from straying towards the sexual. Mages were meant to be asexual in the Circles, they were forbidden to have sex, forbidden to have families, forbidden so many things, but the lingerie she had on underneath those sexless robes was definitely one of those things that would have otherwise been forbidden. Because…

“ _Maker_ ,” he whispered reverently.

The robe fell to the floor, revealing black lace and silk. She was wearing nothing overly complex. It was a simple set of bra and panties, nothing exotic, but it still took his breath away to see it. The panties were a little more complex than he initially thought, with straps that looked as if they were meant to do something. What that was, he did not know. But he was excited. She stood proudly before him, and he stared at her, absentmindedly palming his cock.

“Now, now, that’s not a name to invoke. There’s no Maker here. There’s only me. Beg me for mercy.”

She lifted a leg and delicately placed her bare foot on his shoulder and leaned so that she was looming over him. Immediately, he shifted to accommodate her weight, making sure she had a stable platform. He looked up at her, and she smirked down at him. The visual of her like this was enough to supply him with masturbatory fantasies for months to come, but it was happening _right now_ which made everything so much better. He panted and stared, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

The Templar moaned when she pulled her panties to the side, revealing –

“ _Mercy_ , Enchanter. Mercy, _please_ ,” he begged.

He fucked his fist desperately. The Enchanter of the Circle sighed contentedly as she started to work the dildo she had inside of her out, slowly, agonizingly slowly for the Templars’s particularly greedy taste. He could hear the dildo sliding out of her and the Enchanter trembled as its ridged surface rubbed her inner walls. She stepped harder on his shoulder and he leaned against her calf. He stared at her, craning his neck up. If he tried hard, he was almost certain he could press his mouth against her cunt and taste her sweet arousal.

She smirked and pulled her dildo even further out of her, until the base of it dipped to press against his lips. The Templar kissed her knuckles, flicking his tongue out to taste her. She chuckled darkly, and began to slowly pulse the dildo in and out of her cunt, in time with his hand pumping over his cock.

Every time she withdrew the dildo, she let it rest against his mouth, and he would struggle to kiss or lick her knuckles or the faux cock she was fucking herself with. He made muted whimpering sounds, struggling to bring himself to orgasm with the visual smorgasbord presented to him. He wanted so much more than this. It was taunting to see her bring herself pleasure when _he_ was right there, and she could just _sink_ onto him and it would be so much _better_ but she wasn’t.

“Cum, pet,” the Enchanter purred.

He felt her magic wrap around his thighs and torso, creeping up higher, constricting his movements, holding him tight, and he struggled against it. Her magic forced him to be still, denying him the orgasm that had been building up. He groaned, trying to pull against the magic. He wanted, she had promised that he would have his pleasure before she took it from, but he couldn’t…she was keeping him from it.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the bonds of her magic pulled his hands away, wrapping around each of his fingers in turn and straightening them. He whined as his hands were forced behind his back, bound only with magic, but bound so that he could not get away, or seek friction to give him release. The Templar pulled against the magic that held him, flexing, twisting, doing everything he could to try and break free, reaching for his training, for his abilities, but nothing worked. He was held in an unbreakable grip, aching but unsatisfied.

Above him, the Enchanter still toyed with the dildo, letting it drop before slowly inching it back up into her. He stared, transfixed, still struggling against the bonds that held him. He was shaking with need, and all she did was smile benevolently down at him.

“Oh, does my pet not want to cum?”

“Enchanter _please_. Y-you _promised_ ,” he whimpered.

“Hmm?” she hummed, ceasing the hypnotic movement of her toy and taking her foot off his shoulder.

The Templar leaned hard to the side, off balance now that the pressure was gone. Confused, he tried to regain his stance. She sniggered, and pushed him onto his side with her leg, her magic holding him down against the floor. She straddled him, sinking down onto his lap, her dildo buried inside her. He pulled against her magic again, trying to reach up for her. The Enchanter settled on his chest, too high up for him to rock his hips against her. She was within reach, but utterly untouchable.

“No, I didn’t promise anything, pet. I said your pleasure would belong to you, and for a while, it did. Your hand moved on your cock, your mind got to conjure whatever fantasy it wanted, you were free to seek pleasure for yourself. That all belonged to you. And now it won’t.”

The Templar groaned.

“B-but…Enchanter, I-I-”

“Hush, pet. Your pleasure is mine now. I’m going to pull it out of you, inch by inch.”

His breath caught in his throat as she leaned down to press a kiss to his temple. She ran her fingers down his neck, across his shoulders, down his arms. The hum of her magic against his skin sang to her of how anxiously he was working against the magic. She giggled when he leaned up to try and kiss her, and sat back on his chest, pulling the dildo out of her cunt and affixed it to the harness hidden in the panties she was wearing.

The Templar moaned, long and low as the Enchanter’s magic began to stroke him, rolling across his body in sensual waves. It was the most erotic sort of massage anyone could ever expect to have. Magic, drugging, heady magic moved over him, soothing the nerves frayed by arousal, even as he watched her idly stroke the cock she now wore.

“I’m going to start by taking you back to your bed, pet. I’m going to tie you down and fuck you with my cock. And you aren’t going to cum until you have forgotten everything about yourself except your need for me.”

He nodded emphatically, babbling his acquiescence. Her words were driving him mad with need, and she was unnervingly still. That did not stop her magic from wreaking bloody havoc with his ability to think. Her magic coiled around him, stroking him, petting and pushing and pinching everywhere. She was still unmoving atop of him, but she was smirking as she leaned back down to press her mouth against his ear. Her faux cock pressed into his chest, warm and throbbing with magic.

“And when you are mad with want, when you can’t think of anything but how much you _must_ cum, when your mind is moments from shattering beneath the pleasure of it all, I’m going to pin you down on your back, leave my cock in your ass, and I’m going to slide down on _your_ cock and I’m not going to stop fucking you until…”

The Enchanter paused, her breath hot against his ear. Aurum did not say anything, not for a long moment as she weighed her words carefully. This was a moment where she could go too far, she knew that. But this was not just for Cullen. They had talked about that. This was not just for Cullen’s sake. It was for hers as well, and as much as she wanted this, there was one thing she wanted to have from him. One more thing to push this further.

“I’m going to fuck you until your seed takes in my belly, Templar. I’m going to fuck you until you impregnate me with your bastard child and all of _Thedas_ will know that it’s yours.”

The Templar’s response was a broken moan, a curse, a whispered “please” so soft she had to struggle to hear it, and Aurum bit his neck until he squirmed beneath her. Perfect.

She stood up off of him, and freed him from her magic long enough for him to surge to his feet and reach for her. With a laugh, she danced out of his hands, and threw her magic over him again. He snarled at her, pulling against the magical bonds, even as she pushed him back onto his bed. The Templar struggled, snarling at her as she flipped him onto his stomach.

“I’m not going to give in to this, Enchanter.”

She paused at that. Her Templar’s voice was muffled by the pillow beneath his head, taking the venom out of his words. She pushed him harder into mattress with her magic, pressing her left hand in between his shoulder for good measure as her right hand trailed down, her fingers pressing into the cleft of his ass.

“You already have, Templar. You didn’t stop me because you _wanted_ this, and now I’m going to take what I want from you.”

Magic was a handy thing to have, and her fingers were slicked with lube she summoned to her. The Templar gasped as her index finger circled his opening, pressing insistently, and then backing away. Her oil-slick hand massaged his ass, and she loomed over him, watching his back tense every time she slid her hand down to press against his asshole again. Firmly, she pressed in, and the Templar made a strangled groan as her finger breached him, and he writhed beneath her magical bounds.

His hips bucked, and he sighed at the sweet friction the movement afforded him. Instinctively, he sought more of that pressure, canting his hips back and forth against the sheets. She withdrew from him and smacked his ass hard enough to make him yelp. Before he could register the difference between that pain and the pleasure of the slap, she had driven her oil-slick finger into him up to the second knuckle and her magic snapped ominously in the air.

“Your pleasure is _mine_ , Templar,” she snarled. “And if you insist upon trying to take what is mine from me, I’m going to make you regret it.”

“I’d like to see you try, _mage_ ,” the Templar spat, despite the Enchanter’s finger in his ass. He frotted his achingly hard cock against the scratchy sheets of his past, determined to deny her what she wanted. He was tired of behaving for her.

She huffed, crooked her finger inside of him, and the magic she carried in her curled around him. His arms were stretched nearly painfully forward, pulled by her magic and held in place at the wrist and elbow, even as his knees were pushed up, forcing him into a kneeling bow before her. He choked on his surprise as she started working her lone finger in and out of him, spreading lube all down his ass crack as she spread him open.

He could feel her cock press against his thigh, and despite himself, he moaned at the feeling. Her fingers worked him open, and soon the first finger was joined by a second. The Templar was helpless to do anything other than endure the odd feeling, trying to relax around the sensation.

“If you keep testing me, you’ll _see_ your Maker. I’ll break you on the altar of pleasure and your last thought before you’re mine completely can be of him, if that’s what you _desire_.”

He bit his lip, struggling in vain against her magic and the press of her fingers inside of him. He heard her chuckle and her pace picked up. The sensation was not altogether pleasant or unpleasant, but it was very…different. Then again, when the Enchanter’s fingertip dragged across _something_ in him, stars exploded behind his eyes and he found himself howling a curse into his sheets. His cock was painfully hard, and weeping copious amounts of precum. He felt like an orgasm was mere breaths away from him, but it just was not _coming_.

Smoothly, she slid a third finger into him, and he choked on another curse. Heat curled deep in his belly and he rocked back against her fingers. When he realized the movement, he tried to still himself, but it was fruitless effort. He could not see the Enchanter’s face, but he could nearly hear her smile at it. Shame burned him for being so wanton. He was a _Templar_ and he was bound to a bed, at the mercy of an Enchanter who had overthrown the Circle. Again, she pressed her fingertips against that _spot_ and the shame was consumed by need so dark and yawning that he couldn’t stop himself from wailing. It felt so good. So good.

“Please, again, there right there, Enchanter,” he babbled into the sheets, arching his back and rolling his hips to try and force her to repeat that action.

“Wanton _slut_.”

The Templar froze, his body locking up at her words. Was that what he was? A slut? Her slut? That’s all his training had ever amounted to. This moment, right now, this was everything his training had led to. Nothing in what he had been promised by the Chantry prepared him for this. None of his training was working, and he was here, slowly being pressed into the mold of her pet, her Templar, nothing more than a toy for her to please herself with like that dildo that she was wearing.

Her fingers teased his prostrate, not putting enough pressure on it to make him scream again. He shivered as he felt her lean over him, her cock pressing up against him. The Enchanter grunted, magicking her hand slick with lube as she stroked her faux cock to prepare it for what was coming next.

When she withdrew her fingers he sagged, a whimper spilling from his lips at the sudden lack of pressure inside of him. He did not think he would have missed that feeling, but now he was without it and he craved to have it again. He belonged to the Enchanter already. The realization made him want to fight back against this. The Enchanter grabbed him by the hips and pulled him into position, her magic relaxing to allow him to accommodate the movement. Gently, she began to push her cock into him. The Templar tensed, and she held her position, shushing him, rubbing her hands across his hips and lower back.

“You’re going to look beautiful split on my cock, Templar. You are going to be stuffed full of my cock, and then you’re going to ache for it for the rest of your fucking life.”

He moaned, pressing back against her cock as the Enchanter pressed forward. Aurum was careful to move slowly until she was seated fully inside of him. Once there, she stopped, waiting for Cullen to indicate that he was ready for her to move. Cullen gasped beneath her, making minute movements as he tried to accustom himself to the feeling.

The Enchanter waited for just a moment longer, and then sent lightning flickering across his skin.

The Templar cursed, and jumped away from the sparks, but she caught him by the hips and pulled him back onto her cock. His back bowed and he fisted his sheets in his hands. Magic danced across his skin, snapping his nerves with just enough pain to make the pleasure of her cock in his ass all the more acute. The Enchanter rocked her hips back and forth with slow, minute movements, never relenting her pace. Not until -

“A-aahn, a-ah, _Enchanter_! Enchanter, please!”

“Beg, pet.”

She pushed until her hips were flush against him and then pushed harder, even though there was no further place for her to go. But the point was not to push further, but to overwhelm him with the sensation. The Templar keened, struggling to draw breath from the onslaught on his senses. She was motionless above him and for a long while the only sounds there were in the room was the Templar’s belabored breaths and the Enchanter’s soft panting.

“Beg, Templar. Beg to come.”

He bit his lip and groaned.

“I’m not going t-to, a-ah! Not going to beg, Enchanter,” he grit out.

Aurum snickered behind him, and he was allowed a moment of victory to savor his pride before her hand wrapped around his cock and started to jerk him off as she fucked him. The Templar collapsed against her magical bonds, struggling to find words. His orgasm, previously just hovering in the back of his senses now roared anew. He felt that orgasm coil tight in his gut, and he breathlessly hurtled towards what promised to be a mind-bending orgasm.

She stopped. Her hand vanished from his cock, and she stopped thrusting into him. Abruptly, the pleasure he had been mere seconds from experiencing was nowhere to be found. The Enchanter remained immobile above him, holding him steady underneath her. Her magic wrapped higher on his thighs and shoulders, pushing against his skin, letting him feel the power she held over him. The magic crept up his arms, and then wrapped around his neck. Not hard enough to choke him, but definitely hard enough for him to be aware of the magic, and when it shoved down at the nape of his neck, he was aware that he was well and truly at her mercy.

He squirmed against the magic, struggling to try and find a weakness so that he could demand his pleasure from her, so that he could move and feel the press of her cock’s head against his prostate, but she was maddeningly _statuesque_ behind him, holding him stead with magic and her hands on his hips.

“Beg.”

“ _No_.”

Again, she pounded into him, fucking him brutally, holding him in place with magic and magic alone. Every thrust hit his prostate, every thrust had his breath catching in his throat, every damned thrust made him want to beg. He wanted to beg for mercy, for her to stop, to never stop, for her to just let him _cum_ but pride stilled his tongue and he bit his lip to keep quiet. He had to stay quiet because he was not going to give in, not even when she was sending fingerlings of ice and lightning across his skin.

This particular torture carried on for what seemed like _hours_. She would torment him with thrusts so wild and frantic that he felt like he was going to come apart at the seams from the overload of pleasure. She would stop, cooing words at him that made his chest ache before brutally dragging her cock across his prostate with unnerving accuracy and he was completely reliant on her magic to remain upright. He would come so close to the precipice of absolute pleasure and then she would recognize it and then she would stop and wait for him to catch his breath, wait for the pleasure to bleed away, and then start all again.

It. Was. Exasperating.

The Templar grunted, tensing to try and throw the Enchanter off of the realization that he was going to cum. He was going to deny her the satisfaction of keeping him from cumming. He was going to take his pleasure from this without succumbing to her commands. He was not going to wait for her to rile him up to the point where he would _want_ to impreg- impregnate –

“Oh, _Maker_ ,” he moaned as the thought took hold in him. “Enchanter, _please_.”

She **stopped**.

He cursed prolifically, trying to get her to move again, trying to fuck her cock to eke out those last few moments of pleasure that would send him over the edge. He had been so close. He had been so close to cumming as soon as he had thought about –

“Beg. Beg for it.”

The Templar snarled, and bit his lip until he tasted blood. The words were on the tip of his tongue, he was so very ready to give in, to let go of control, to have her take him truly, but he was not going to succumb yet.

She snapped her hips once, and his thoughts left him.

“Enchanter. Enchanter, please, I need you, I want you.”

She thrust again, pressing the head of her cock deep inside of him.

“ _Enchanter_!”

The Enchanter held his hips in her hands with a brutal grip, and pulled him back against her in time with her thrusts. The Templar held back the moan in his throat for as long as he could, but she was absolutely unyielding in her assault on his senses.

“Enchanter please, please, I beg you, please!” he keened brokenly as soon as she stopped again.

“No,” she growled at him, and her magic thrummed around him, pulling upright in front of her.

She wrapped her arms around him, one hand on his throat, the other on his cock. The Enchanter stroked him in time with every one of her damnable shallow thrusts, and every time he came close to cumming, she would tighten her hand on his throat and on the base of his cock until the need passed. He was dimly aware of the pinprick flashes of pain from her teeth sinking into his shoulder, but only in the vague sense of the term of aware.

“Enchanter, I-I need!” he grit out. “I need you!”

“Yes. You do. But you aren’t going to cum yet.”

He sobbed, trying to get her to _move_ again because she kept stopping every time he thought he was going to finally be able to cum. The Enchanter held him still against her, her grip on his cock gentle and soft as she stroked his cock. The Templar gasped, and she tightened her grip on his throat. The contrast between the gentle and the harsh made him drop back against her. Her magic was not holding him as tightly anymore, so when he sagged against her, he sank lower onto her cock in his ass.

“Enchanter, I want you! Please, please let me cum. I want to cum, please, please, _please_ let me cum!”

She shoved him face-first down into his mattress, and pinned him beneath her again, thrusting into him for a brief moment, seating her cock completely inside of him. She hurriedly undid the straps holding her cock in its harness, leaving it inside of him as she pulled away from him. He turned at her urging, and sighed at the sight of her, wreathed in magic and crawling into his lap. She stripped her lingerie off of her body, and without any preamble, she flicked her magic up at his wrists.

The Templar whimpered as his hands were pinned up to the headboard. His legs were pulled out, and he found himself bound in magic, spread-eagled on his bed with a crazed mage atop of him, and her cock in his ass still. He wanted nothing more than to never leave. He wanted her. Nothing else but her. Nothing else but her.

“I own you.”

“Yes.”

She rewarded him with a brief drag of her sopping wet cunt against his cock. He swore and arched up against her, but she was already gone. The Enchanter smirked at him from her position above him.

“You are mine.”

“ _Yes_.”

Another drag, and he sobbed again.

“Your pleasure-”

“Is yours, Enchanter,” he finished automatically. Anything to get her to stay on top of him instead of keep rising up off of him, he would say absolutely anything.

“Is it?”

“Ye-heeesssss, yes, yes, _yes_ Enchanter, yes. All of it is yours.”

She made a pleased purring sound under her breath and lowered herself down onto the Templar’s lap again, grinding against his cock, smearing her juices all over him. He threw his head back and moaned at the feeling, aching for want of her. But still, she did not actually fuck him. He was achingly aware of her cock still in his ass, and every time he tried to flex his hips he could feel it inside of him.

“All of it?”

“ _Yes,_ please, Enchanter, it is all yours. All of it, all of me!”

She leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“Then tell me you’ll put a child in me. Tell me that you will give me that. Tell me you will bind yourself to me like that.”

He bit his tongue, trying to stop the traitorous words bubbling up in the back of his throat. The Enchanter’s smirk was pressed against his neck and she rocked her hips against his cock. For a breathless moment, his cock slid into her, and that shredded any hope he had for resisting. The Templar crumbled beneath her, and succumbed to the dark desire she painted for him.

“By the _Void_ , yes Enchanter. Yes, I will. I am yours, in every possible way. I swear it, on everything I used to value that I am only, always, _yours_.”

The Enchanter sat up, looked down and beamed at him. She brushed one of his curls out of his eyes and kissed him. The Templar’s heart beat furiously in his chest and he reciprocated the kiss lustfully. He needed her. He needed her so badly that it scorched him. One of her hands maneuvered his cock into position and she slid down onto him with a groan. The Enchanter threw her head back and moaned, long and sweetly.

“My _Templar_ ,” she sang as she shivered atop of him.

Her magic flickered once, as she started to fuck him properly. The Templar took notice, because of course he did, and he gave an experimental thrust of his hips. Her magic flickered again, and this time, he was prepared for it. In the short moment that was afforded to him of freedom, he surged upwards, wrapping his arms around her waist and twisting.

The Templar threw her onto the scratchy sheets. The Enchanter squealed, her magic flickering at her fingertips, but he caught her hands with his and pinned them down with a snarl. Her magic guttered out as his power overwhelmed hers for the first time. She quailed beneath him shivering as he held her down as easily as she had done to him before.

He thrust into her brutally, snarling savagely at her. She mewled, struggling against him, which was a completely fruitless effort.

“You want to be pregnant, mage?” he sneered.

The Enchanter blinked up at him, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She pulled vainly at his hold on her wrists, whimpering and averting her eyes from his. He growled and dropped one of his hands down to grab her by the hip so he could hold her steady as he pounded into her mercilessly. One-handed, he held her down, and held her magic at bay. She writhed, kicking ineffectively against him, but he was unmoved.

“You want to bear a Templar’s bastard son?”

She wailed into her arm, her hands balled into fists. Internally, he preened at how the tables had turned. The Enchanter had tried to break him down, and now he had her instead. He had her and he was going to fuck her into submission. _He_ had her where she had wanted him, and now it was – it was what he wanted. He still craved the pleasure she had given him, he still craved what she had promised. The Templar stilled, and looked down at the Enchanter.

Her sniffling wails had faded as his thrusts had ceased.

In fact, there was a wry smile on her face and she rocked her hips against him. His eyes rolled as he felt the cock in his ass start to vibrate against his prostate.

“Y-you planned…?” he stammered, a needle of worry worming into his chest.

“Fuck me, pet.”

He submitted to her will, letting her wrists go in favor of grabbing her by the hips and fucking her like she commanded him to. Her magic wrapped around his body again, pinning him to her, locking him to her, and all the while, her cock vibrated inside of him. He panted as pleasure overwhelmed him, but he tried to hold off, wanting to try and prolong this. He did not want to give in so readily. He was a Templar, he was the Templar, he shouldn’t give in, he shouldn’t succumb, but it was so much better to give in a-and –

“ _Enchanter_ , I-I’m going to!”

“ _Cum_ , pet.”

Her permission resonated deep within him and with a powerful howl, he came undone. All of the pleasure she had forced upon him exploded out of him in an orgasm so intense that he lost all sense of time and place.

* * *

“Vhenan, are you okay?” Aurum asked, pulling the scratchy Templar-given sheets out from underneath him, and wrapping him in his usual comforter.

As gently as she could, she worked the dildo out of him and put it to the side of the bed, leaving it for later cleaning. She made certain that Cullen was never left without physical contact, even as she moved around him to strike the scene away. The lights were too far away for her to get without her magic, but she was not going to start using anything until she was sure Cullen was okay.

“Mmm.”

His mind still felt fuzzy, disjointed from reality, and Aurum rubbed soothing circles on his shoulders, kissing his forehead and neck in equal turn. He reached for her absentmindedly, and she curled into his side with a sigh. He did not move for anything else, not immediately. Cullen felt warm and safe.

“Can I use my magic? Are you okay with that?”

“Mmm. Yes.”

“What tea would you like?”

He felt her magic whisper through the air, but it did not touch him. Light flickered on in the hallway outside of his room, and then, in his room. He curled an arm around her waist and ducked his head beneath the blanket to shield his eyes from the too-bright light, reveling in her naked skin against him. For a moment, he did not respond to Aurum, thinking hard.

“You have that really nice green tea with the lemon in it. I want some of that, please.”

“Of course, anything for you, vhenan. Does anything hurt?”

“No, nothing hurts, Aurum. Can you turn on the music, please?”

She hummed and nodded against his chest, waving her hand to turn on his stereo. Soft, classical music floated through the air. It was the soundtrack to one of the last decade’s most epic movies, something she had been surprised to learn that Cullen had loved so much, but it was nice music, and it made the wait for the tea to be ready that much easier. Cullen held her close, twirling strands of her hair around his fingers.

“Is there anything else you want, vhenan? Are you hungry?”

“I want tea, and then maybe a nap, and no, not hungry.”

She laughed, and nuzzled his neck. The tea was done being steeped and with a casual display of magic, she pulled the teacup towards her. Aurum held it in one hand as she pulled a huge pile of pillows into the room and buried Cullen in them. He huffed from beneath the sudden onslaught, but helpfully leaned forward when Aurum started adjusting them behind him so he could sit upright and sip on the tea that she presented to him in his favorite mug. He mumbled something and started sipping the tea, with Aurum still curled into his side.

“Alright, tea and then one really good nap coming up. First, we have to talk about stuff.”

Cullen stiffened at her side.

“Oh, hush, vhenan. Nothing like that. I wanted to ask where you wanted to go for dinner tomorrow. I wanted to take you out somewhere nice after all of this.”

He relaxed and sipped his tea, still buzzing from what they had been doing earlier. He already felt more like himself, and talking about dinner plans only made the feeling more real. He was not the Templar. He was Cullen. She was Aurum. And he loved her.

When he mumbled that to her as she took his empty teacup from his hand, she smiled and returned the sentiment with a kiss and a cuddle so fiercely loving that Cullen sighed and shivered with unadulterated delight. She curled next to him and ruffled his hair with her hands, offering the intimacy of the gesture without any expectation of a kiss. He was swaddled in more blankets that Aurum knew what to do with, and even though she was wrapped in there with him in a delightfully tight cocoon of warmth and acceptance, she knew better than to fall into sleep as easily as Cullen was.

“You are so strong, Cullen. So strong and beautiful, my heart. You did so well, and I’m so very proud of you for handling that so well. Are you warm?”

“Mmmhm,” he mumbled, wrapping himself around her, seeking the rather meager heat an elvhen’s body produced.

“Good. My love, you are so fantastic. Sleep well, my Cullen. You are so wonderful. I love you so much.”

Cullen hummed happily, curled his body tighter around hers, and Aurum gently rubbed his scalp until he fell asleep. She remained awake for a while longer than he did, watching over him and making sure that no nightmares came to him too quickly. She left the lights on, along with the music, but eventually, she too, fell asleep, still protectively watching over Cullen as best she could from the Fade.


End file.
